#i can’t believe next month it will be 14 years ago that i saw this tour 😭✨✨✨

[worstjourney]

The Millennials' Polar Expedition

A year ago today (23 Nov 2022), I launched Worst Journey Vol.1 at the Scott Polar Research Institute. This is the text of the speech I gave to the lovely people who turned up to celebrate.

As many of you know, my interest in the Terra Nova Expedition was sparked by Radio 4’s dramatisation of The Worst Journey in the World, now 14 years ago.  The story is an incredible story, and it got its claws into me, but what kept me coming back again and again were the people.  I couldn’t believe anyone so wonderful had ever really existed.  So when I finally succumbed to obsession and started reading all the books, it was the expedition members’ own words which I most cherished.  These were not always easy to come by, though, so plenty of popular histories were consumed as well.  Reading both in tandem, it soon became clear that, while there were some good books out there, there was a lot of sloppy research in the polar echo chamber as well.

I also discovered that no adaptation had attempted to get across the full scope of the expedition.  There has never been a full and fair dramatic retelling, all having been limited by time, budget, or ideology from telling the whole story truthfully.  I was determined that my adaptation would be both complete and accurate, and be as accountable as possible to those precious primary documents and the people who wrote them.

So the years of research began.  I moved to Cambridge to be able to drop in at SPRI and make the most of the archives.  Getting to Antarctica seemed impossible, but I went to New Zealand to get at least that much right, and on the way back stayed with relatives in Alberta, the most Antarctic place I could realistically visit.  I gathered reference for objects wherever I could.  Because Vol.1 takes place mainly on the Terra Nova, which is now a patch of sludge on the seabed off Greenland, I cobbled together a Franken-Nova in my mind, between the Discovery up in Dundee and the Star of India in San Diego.  I spent a week on a Jubilee Sailing Trust ship in order to depict tall-ship sailing correctly.  I’m sure I’ve still got loads of things wrong, but I did all I could, to get as much as I could, right.

But still, everyone I met who had been to Antarctica said, “you can’t understand Antarctica until you’ve been there, and you can’t tell the story without understanding Antarctica; you have to go.”  So I applied to the USAP’s Antarctic Artists and Writers Program, with faint hope, as they do “Ahrt” and I draw cartoons.  But I must have blagged a good grant proposal, because a year after applying, I was stepping out of a C-17 onto the Ross Ice Shelf.  The whole trip would have been worth it just to stand there, turn in a circle, and see how all the familiar photographs fit together.  But the USAP’s generosity didn’t stop there, and in the next month I saw Hut Point, Arrival Heights, the Beardmore Glacier (including the moraine on which the Polar Party stopped to “geologise”), and Cape Crozier, and made three visits to the Cape Evans hut.  Three!  On top of the visual reference I got priceless qualitative data.  The hardness of the sound.  The surprising warmth of the sun. The sugary texture of the snow.  The keen edge on a slight breeze.  The way your fingertips and toes can start to go when the rest of you is perfectly warm.  The SHEER INSANITY of Cape Crozier.  The veterans were right – I couldn’t have drawn it without having been there, but now I have, and can, and I am more grateful than I can ever adequately express.  With all these resources laid so copiously at my feet, all I had to do was sit down and draw the darn thing.  Luckily I have some very sound training to back me up on that.

Now, this is all very well for the how of making the book, and, I hope, interesting enough. But why?  Why am I putting so much effort into telling this story, and why now?

Well, it means a lot to me personally.  To begin to understand why, you need to know that I grew up in the 80s and 90s, at the height of individualist, goal-oriented, success-driven, dog-eat-dog, devil-take-the-hindmost neoliberalism.  It was just assumed that humans, when you get right down to it, were basically self-interested jerks, and I saw plenty of them around so I had no reason to question this assumption.  The idea was that if you did everything right, and worked really hard, you could retire at 45 to a yacht in the Bahamas, and if you didn’t retire to a yacht, well, you just hadn’t tried hard enough.  Character, in the sense of rigorous personal virtue, was for schmucks.  What mattered was success.  Even as my politics evolved, I still took it as a given that this was how the world worked, and that was how people generally were – after all, there was no lack of corroborating evidence.  So: I worked really hard.  I single-mindedly pursued my self-interest.  I made sacrifices, and put in the time, and fought my way into my dream job and all the success I could have asked for.

And then I met the Terra Nova guys.

What struck me most about them was that even when everything was going wrong, when their expectations were shattered and they had to face the cruellest reality, they were still kind.  Not backbiting, recriminating, blame-throwing, defensive, or mean, as one would expect – they were lovely to each other, patient, supportive, self-sacrificing; in fact the worse things got, the better they were.  They still treated each other as friends even when it wasn’t in their self-interest, was even contrary to their self-interest.  I didn’t know people could be like that.  But there they were, in plain writing, being thoroughly, bafflingly, decent.  Not just the Polar Party – everyone had to face their own brutal realities at some point, and they all did so with a grace I never thought possible.

It presented a very important question:

When everything goes belly-up, and you’re facing the worst, what sort of person will you be?

Or perhaps more acutely: What sort of person would you rather be with?

It was so contrary to the world I lived in, to the reality I knew – it was a peek into an alternate dimension, populated entirely with lovely, lovely people, who really, genuinely believed that “it’s not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game,” and behaved accordingly.  It couldn’t be real.  There had to be a deeper, unpleasant truth: that was how the world worked, after all.  I kept digging, expecting to hit bottom at some point, but I only found more gold, all the way down.  How could I not spend my life on this?

Mythology exists to pass on a culture’s values, moral code, and survival information – how to face challenges and prevail.  Scott’s story entered the British mythology, and had staying power, because it exemplified those things so profoundly for the culture that created and received it.  But the culture changed, and there were new values; Scott’s legacy was first inverted and then cast aside.  The new culture needed a new epic hero.  You’d think it would be Amundsen, the epitome of ruthless success, but “Make Plan – Execute Plan – Go Home” has no mythic value, so he didn’t stick.  The hero needed challenges, he needed setbacks, and he needed to win, on our terms.

Shackleton!  Shackleton was a winner!  Shackleton told us what we knew to be true and wanted to hear at epic volume: that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard, you will succeed!  (Especially if you can control the narrative.)  Scott, on the other hand, tells us that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard . . . you may nevertheless die horribly in the snow.  Nobody wants to hear that!  What a downer!  I think it’s no coincidence that Shackleton exploded into popular culture in the late 90s and has dominated it ever since: he is the mythic hero of the zeitgeist. I am always being asked if I’ll be doing Shackleton next.  He has six graphic novels already!  That is plenty!  But people still want to tell and be told his story, because it’s a heroic myth that validates our worldview.

That’s why I am so determined to tell the Scott story, because Scott is who we don’t realise we need right now – and Wilson, and Bowers, and Cherry, and Atch, and all the rest.  The Terra Nova Expedition is the Millennials’ polar expedition.  We’ve worked really hard, we’ve done everything we were supposed to, we made what appeared to be the right decisions at the time, and we’re still losing.  Nothing in the mythology we’ve been fed has prepared us for this.  No amount of positive attitude is going to change it.  We have all the aphorisms in the world, but what we need is an example of how to behave when the chips are down, when the Boss is not sailing into the tempest to rescue us, when the Yelcho is not on the horizon.  When circumstances are beyond your power to change, how do you make the best of your bad situation?  What does that look like? Even if you can’t fix anything, how do you make it better for the people around you – or at the very least, not worse?  Scott tells us: you can be patient, supportive, and humble; see who needs help and offer it; be realistic but don’t give in to despair; and if you’re up against a wall with no hope of rescue, go out in a blaze of kindness.  We learn by imitation: it’s easy to say these things, but to see them in action, in much harder circumstances than we will ever face, is a far greater help.  And to see them exemplified by real, flawed, complicated people like us is better still; they are not fairy-tale ideals, they are achievable. Real people achieved them.

My upbringing in the 80s milieu of selfishness, which set me up to receive the Scott story so gratefully, is hardly unique.  There are millions of us who are hungry for a counter-narrative.  My generation is desperate for demonstrations of caring, whether it’s activism or social justice or government policies that don’t abandon the vulnerable.  We’ve seen selfishness poison the world, and we want an alternative.  The time for competition is past; we must cooperate or perish, but we don’t know how to do it because our mythology is founded on competition.  The Scott story, if told properly, explodes the Just World Fallacy, and liberates us from the lie that has ruled our lives: that you make your own luck.  What happens, happens: what matters is how you respond to it.  My obsession with accuracy is in part to honour the men, and in part because Cherry was the ultimate stickler and he’d give me a hard time if I didn’t, but also because, if I’m telling the story to a new generation, I’m damn well going to make sure we get that much RIGHT.  It’s been really interesting to see, online, how my generation and the next have glommed onto polar exploration narratives, not as thrilling feats of derring-do, but as emotional explorations of found family and cooperative resilience.  We love them because they love each other, and loving each other helps get them through, and we want – we need – to see how that’s done.  It’s time to give them the Terra Nova story, and to tell it fully, fairly, and honestly, in all its complexity, because that is how their example is most useful to us.  Not as gods, and not as fools, but as real human beings who were excellent to each other in the face of disaster.  I only hope that I, a latecomer to their ways, can do them justice.

[shoresoftheshadowlands]

I'm not sure that pelican one was a pelican exhibit though, it looked like it had gotten into a different exhibit and was eating the ducks? Which is why they grabbed it and dragged it out. (I have only seen that one vid/gif going around so I don't have further info outside of what I saw there) but it didn't look to me like it was intended to be there. EDIT:

This just in, this post is misinformation! MooDeng is NOT being mistreated! I mentioned this post to a friend (Because I was concerned) who had the deets and they sent me a post that firmly debunks this. Stop spreading misinformation jesus christ.

From this post here:

QUOTE: KimWiko • 3d ago

Since I’m Thai and has access to local information. I’ll share some of it. Zookeeper doesn’t handle her constantly. He only fed the mother, gave them a bath and play with Moo Deng from 8:00-9:00AM. He stays with the mother while she’s eating to make sure that the free roaming monkeys in the zoo can’t steal her food. Then he comes back in again at 14:00 to drop some grass for second feeding time. You only get to see pictures and videos of him handling her in this specific hour because that’s the only time he can take them. No one outside the zoo is allowed in the enclosure. You can watch 24/7 livestream if you don’t believe me. Moodeng spends most of the time sleeping next to her mother, mostly in the water. You will almost always tune in to the livestream into her sleeping in the water as a vague distant blob. (Fun fact: she’s very active around midnight local time. That’s the good time to check on her.) Also, this isn’t the keeper’s first hippo, he took care of many before (8 years, 10 hippos IIRC from an interview), including the mother, which is why the mother isn’t aggressive toward him. I’ll believe his expertise over random tumbler user any day. If you check the livestream you can see a glimpse of another hippo in the next enclosure on the top. That’s Moodeng’s 5 years old brother Mootoon (Braised Pork) that he also took care of and he grew into a healthy chonky boy. (Some of the pictures of Moodeng you see online is actually Mootoon.) Yes, zoos can be problematic, but in the case of pygmy hippos, they’re critically endangered with only around 2,500 left in the wild with diminishing habitat. In Thailand alone, at least 10 pygmy hippos have been bred in recent years. While it’s not as ideal as them thriving in the wild, it’s certainly better than letting them go extinct without taking action. Lastly, I’d like to point out how the media tends to exaggerate things. The reports of people throwing objects at her? It’s only confirmed to have happened 2-3 times: once with water, once with a seashell, and maybe with an empty bottle. CCTV installed last month prevents any more. Yet, the news makes it sound like she’s constantly being harassed. Why do I care? Because I’ve been following this baby girl since birth and I’m one of the people who voted for her name before she’s famous. I hate misinformation. If you have any question, go ahead, I’ll answer what I can. TLDR: She’s man-handled only 1-2 hours a day by an expert who has been taking care of hippos for 8 years.

So that's that!

Not to be a killjoy (though it is what I do best) but the unsafe and rough handling of a baby Pygmy hippo in a pretty substandard Thai zoo being meme-ed into something funny and cute really shows just how much groupthink plays into public perception of animal welfare.

Moo Deng shows avoidance, threat displays and stress around her keepers that are constantly man-handling her, blasting her with a hose and harassing her. The enclosure is mostly concrete, which is horrible for her soft feet. There looks to be some substrate but there doesn’t seem to be any areas for wallowing or deep water wading.

There’s also very easy access of this hippo to the public with no places to hide. I’d love if someone could shed more light on the enclosures but from what I’ve seen it’s not great.

Also the free contact and forcing into tubs that the keepers do is only going to create an avoidant and potentially aggressive and dangerous Pygmy hippo.

But the public happily overlook that because she’s cute. It’s a similar attitude with seals too.

Stop rewarding bad husbandry with clout. Baby animals deserve agency and respect and to grow up without getting harassed and feeling the need to defend themselves constantly.

[thisisgonnabemyyear]

I got my T2D diagnosis end of February 2023. It was so upsetting, but also quite possibly the best thing that could have happened. At 32, I have time to reverse some of the problems I’ve given my own body.

My highest recorded weight was 249.8 (250!!!!) in August 2019. I was still in Portland then, and completely miserable. This was of course after years of yo-yo dieting. Finding something that worked for awhile then would gain every pound and more back.

I’m in Madison now, and happier with my life in general. But I felt (feel!!!) uncomfortable in my skin, in my clothes, sitting on my couch, walking up the stairs, everywhere. I hated looking in the mirror.

So February 2023. Fasting glucose 267. A1C 9.0. Weight 238. Devastating, not surprising. My SIL told me about some newer drugs on the market, and I asked my doc about them. Prescribed MJ. Immediately saw results. Changed my diet, started working out some (not a lot).

Fast forward to June, 3 month check up. A1C 6.0. Weight 208. Down 30 pounds and my clothes just…fit right. I’m eating better than I ever have. I feel good. I take selfies and look closely at myself in the mirror. Just really “feeling” myself which I can honestly say has never NEVER happened in my life.

Next check up with A1C check is in September. It’s August now and I’m down to 190. Some days that feels like slow progress. Some of my clothes straight up do not fit anymore because they are TOO BIG. I’m between a size 12 and 14 jean. I’ve never owned less than a size 14 before. I fit into “regular” sizes and I’m overwhelmed not to be limited to the plus-size section at a store. I am frozen, unsure how to shop for my new body.

The craziest part is that 190 isn’t even my smallest weight. I have, at one point, been 187 or so. That’s my smallest recorded weight. It was many, many years ago but I do not ever remember even then being comfortable in my skin. Feeling like I’m doing the right things, not starving myself. Probably because that was rapid weight loss and this is more “slow and steady” by eating right and listening to my body, rather than some wild regime from a weight loss video guru.

And I should say too, that this is with minimal exercise. When I do, it’s strengths training, but I haven’t gotten into a good routine with it yet. I’m first to admit MJ is a miracle worker for me. It suppresses my food noise. I am pretty sure I crave different, healthier foods (hi, cucumbers?!?!) because of the drug. But I am not using this medication in an unhealthy way. I do not want to skip meals. I want to enjoy meals, how I believe other people might. I’ve learned to respect food, rely on GOOD food, in a way I can’t imagine doing without the drug. But, I will give myself credit. I am making the choices. I am doing the things. I am learning what is good and not so good for my body. Sometimes, I eat things that I know my body doesn’t want because I am a human person. That’s okay. I’m not perfect. This process isn’t perfect.

So here’s hoping I can fix some terrible things I already did to my body. Here’s hoping I keep being able to get this medicine that is, in my opinion, absolutely saving my life. Here’s hoping I keep learning and growing and well, losing (weight). For the first time ever, it just feels like a sustainable change I’m making. I’m happy, and proud of that.

[killing-time-w-kaz]

I was working in the mountains of Uzbekistan this summer for two months and sometimes you’d hear or feel things in the fleeting moments you were alone. Maybe it was our minds being over active after so long in the field.

Our camp was maybe 20 minutes walk from the highway and right next to the local road. We’d have to hike up the ridge behind the camp just to get to cell service and often times the only time I was able to go was after dinner. And the moon was almost never visible at night unless it was full. Otherwise, when night fell, it was pitch black.

There were also shepherd dogs that wandered the countryside keeping an eye on the herds of sheep that would descend upon the hills. There were four commonly seen around the excavation site and camp: black/white, tan, white, and dark brown. However, there was a fifth commonly seen only on the mountain when people went up to make calls: pure black Alabay. These are absolutely massive central Asian dogs, look em up if you haven’t seen them. According to one of my supervisors, he’d just sit and stare at you until you got off the mountain. He’d never growl or shy away. He’d just stare. Some archaeologists were worried that they’d be bitten or become dinner to this hound.

One night during a particularly bad thunderstorm, two of us saw glowing eyes next to the toilet stalls that were too far off the ground for comfort. Our directors told us it was likely an Alabay who had wandered into camp looking for food. The unsettling part is that we’ve never seen this dog with any of the herds around us. And when asked, none of the shepherds said they had a black dog. Or a dog big enough to fit the description of the dog on the mountain.

The night of July 14, I made the hike up the hill to call my parents, who I hadn’t contacted for two weeks. It was dark. No one else from the team was going up that night so I decided to hike the long way up since I wasn’t interested in breaking my neck if I tripped going the shorter, steeper route. There are no hospitals in our area. Any medical facilities were up to 2 hours away. The entire hike up and my walk back , I have never felt so unsettled. I felt something there, heard it walking near me. Whatever it was never stepped into my headlamp’s light. Maybe it was the dog. Maybe it was something else.

When I went back up July 28, there was no moon and no one else around. Eventually several people came up, made their calls and left. I would have stayed up longer, since I needed to contact my brothers and a good friend. But then the signal cut out as I was in the middle of a phone call with my friend. She has a fairly normal voice, not high pitched or particularly deep. However after the call cut out and the signal was lost, my call was still active for a little bit.

The voice on the other end did not belong to my friend. I can’t even describe how it sounded. Both young and old, high and low. I don’t speak any Turkic languages, but I do recognize them. And this was not Uzbek or Kyrgyz. I don’t know what it was. And I’m not sure I want to find out. When I told my project director, he told me maybe it was my phone picking up someone else’s signal or my friend’s call getting distorted. But my friend is in America (and doesn’t speak anything even related to Turkic languages) and the signal was completely cut off that night. Someone else helpfully reminded us that I was the only person who worked on the excavation of a grave from start to finish, from opening the grave to bagging and logging the bones.

A grave of a Turkic warrior buried 1200 years ago.

Now i don’t believe in curses, but I do hold some superstitions. And I still find something unsettling about that camp. The glowing eyes I saw that stormy night weren’t attached to a body. No silhouette was outlined by the lightening as it struck. And sometimes you’d hear someone walking through camp, just beyond the edge of the tent corridor where no one lived and no one walked

i really like a good story so please tell me about a mysterious and unexplainable experience you had

[letarasstuff]

Normal People don't know their IQ

(A/N): Inspired by me, who recently discovered normal people don’t know their IQ, while I was tested two or three times already...

Summary: A certain someone is the only way to get the UnSub. But there’s also something different that makes her special.

Warnings: Angst (fluffy end, I swear), language, mentions of rape and torture, mention of dead people, the usual CM stuff I guess Wordcount: 2.0k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________________

“Garcia, I need you to look into high school teachers, who are suspended or fired for inappropriate behavior towards students and live in the area of the kidnappings”, Hotch orders in a stern voice. But you can’t blame him, after all there are currently six dead teenage girls and one missing. One can only hope and work as fast as possible to get her back to her parents alive.

The team is working a case in Sacramento, California. Teenage girls get abducted on their way home from school, are held for exactly a week and are killed by a simple cut to their throat. The torture they have to endure beforehand isn’t as simple. The last two also show signs of rape.

The dumbing sites are different parks all over the city. The placing happens overnight only to have the girls found the next morning by a clueless jogger or stroller.

“Let’s go over the profile again, I feel like we are missing something”, Rossi commands. His gut feeling tells him only that much, he just has to find out what it is.

“It’s a white male in his mid thirties to late forties. He blends in, so he has to be or has been a teacher. Someone who looks like they belong into a school isn’t suspicious”, Spencer counts the facts.

“The victims all look similar, probably resembling an ex-wife or girlfriend”, Morgan adds. Before he can get into the depth of the torture a phone rings.

“My lovely crime fighters, I got an address. Charles Collins. philosophy and history. Got suspended for suggestive talk towards his female students. He is also said to stare at them and certain body parts for way too long and way too obvious. Gross. Annnd that- wait”

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asks after a moment of silence, which is unusual for the ever bubbly tech analyst.

“You got your profile wrong. Collins doesn’t take these girls because of an ex flame.”

The team looks at each other in confusion. Garcia always stresses how she isn’t a profiler and can’t judge over people, because she only wants to see the good in them. How is she able to tell that the profile is off?

“Shoot baby girl, we don’t have much time left”, Derek urges her. He wants nothing more than to have this SOB finally behind bars. The whole team wants that.

“He has a daughter. Technically it’s not his daughter, it’s someone else’s, but he is her foster father. Go and please save both girls!”

Penelope doesn’t have to say it twice. After a brief thank you and goodbye the team is on their way to the given address. As soons as they get there, everyone notices the absence of a car in the driveway. Hotch sends Spencer, Emily and Derek through the back door, the rest goes in from the front.

“FBI! OPEN UP!”

It’s needless to say that nobody opens up. There is no other way than kicking the doors down.

After entering the house and clearing the first floor, Rossi points towards the stairs that leads to the first story. There are only two rooms. A bathroom right hand and a closed door left hand.

Morgan counts quietly down before also kicking this door down and screaming “FBI!” But he seemingly talks with air, because there is no one to be found. Once again the team swarms out to look for evidence or clues.

As Spencer looks through the room they cleared last, he sees various things that make him smile. Several bookshelves are flooded with all kinds of genres, authors and covers. At first he can’t make out in which way they are sorted. But a closer look makes him realize that they are sorted by the author’s birth year. The doctor is kind of impressed, because that means the person knows when they are born in order to find a certain book. He likes the idea, it is a nice little challenge.

While he investigates further a sound makes him stop. He sends a text to Emily and waits for her. When she enters the room Spencer gestures to her to keep it quiet. Then he points to the bed.

They lower themselves down to the floor at the same time on each side of it. A girl, no older than 14 years, lays there shivering in angst. With big doe eyes she looks at Spencer and whispers:

“Please don’t hurt me.”

A while later the team is back at the station with the girl sitting in one of the interrogation rooms. The temperature is already set down, though Hotch feels really bad for it. Still there is another girl out there waiting to be safed.

“Baby girl, what can you give us on her?” Morgan sets his phone in the middle of the table and switches the speaker on.

“Our little girl’s name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), fourteen years old. Parents were deemed to be unable to look after her since they are both heavy drug addicts and didn’t even register her crying for two hours straight. Since the age of six months she bounces through the system with nobody wanting to keep her longer than two years. They claim she is too smart for them and want somebody to look after her, who can challenge her intellectually.

“Collins took her in one and a half years ago. He got her signed up in several activities after school, like chess and academic decathlon. As of right now she is a junior with an opportunity to graduate next year. Her teachers describe her as incredibly bright with a complicated way of thinking.”

“Complicated way of thinking? Her intelligence was neglected for years, so she gave herself her own challenges. I found her books sorted by the birth year of the authors. She found ways of making things more difficult for herself, that’s why she fabricated strange ways of thinking. This is often found in children with high intelligence, who are not boosted enough by their environment”, Spencer explains, getting more and more furious.

His colleagues feel that this is a sensitive subject for their resident genius. JJ comfortably puts a hand on his shoulder, making the tense go away.

“Emily and Dave, I want both of you to interrogate her. We need to know where he hides the girls. JJ, try to hold the press off for a bit longer. Morgan, Reid, I want you to watch and look for tells or anything else”, Aaron orders.

Everyone works on their given task immediately.

You don’t need to be a profiler to see that (Y/N) is scared out of her mind. She has her feet on her chair and her head lies on her knees. When the two agents enter, she tries to at least fake some kind of composer. But she fails miserably at it.

“Hello (Y/N), may I call you that?” Emily begins in a soft voice. The teenager nods shyly. “Good, (Y/N). My name is Emily Prentiss and this is David Rossi. We are agents from the Behavior Analysis Unit from the FBI. Do you know why you are here?” The teenager shakes her head.

“Ok, let’s cut the chase”, David's voice booms through the small room. “You know exactly why you are here. From what we saw in your room you are an incredibly smart girl. How high is your IQ? 130? 135?”

“147 a-actually”, she nervously corrects the agent, never meeting his eye. The team notices this fairly quickly.

“Even better, normal people don’t know their IQ. So you know what your forster father does. You saw the news, you read the papers, you heard your classmates talk. In addition to that, the girls look alarmingly similar to you. And all of the sudden Charles is more often out than usual. So do us a favor and come clear.” Then he pulls out a picture from a manila folder on the table. Emily tries to intervene.

“Rossi, don’t. She is not the UnSub. (Y/N) is just unfortunate to be at the wrong place.” “She might as well be another UnSub if she doesn’t do anything to help us. Do you know how long you are going to jail for helping hi-”

“I don’t know anything. I- of course I saw what is h-happening. A-and I connected the dots a long time a-ago. You know, Charles lost his job and that’s a stressor. T-then Child Service was investigating him, because of the suspension’s reasons. I-I couldn’t do anything. I had no evidence, the police wouldn’t believe me. I asked him once wh-what he thinks about, you know, what’s happening. He slapped me and told me to not talk about it again. I’m so sorry, I wanna help. The only thing that comes into my mind is an old cabin he once mentioned when I first arrived at his. B-but I don’t know if it helps you. P-please, I don’t want to go to jail or juvenile, I-” Then (Y/N) breaks down into tears.

Emily is in an instant by her side trying to calm her down, while Hotch gives the information to Garcia. As soon as she finds the location, JJ takes a seat next to (Y/N) and the rest of the team flies out.

“You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, Sweetheart. My colleagues will find him and he will be tried and convicted. He will never be a threat to you again”, the blonde tries to comfort her.

“Whenever I leave an abusive home, there will be another one that’s exactly the same. The only difference with Charles was that he seemed to understand me. He helped me. There’s nobody who is willing to do what he did for me”, she admits sadly.

It breaks JJ’s heart, because her words are true. Even though he is a killer, Collins did help her. But she is also determined to show the young girl that he isn’t the only one who can do that. That there are more people out there, who are kind and as helpful if not more.

Not long after this the team brings the man into the station, Morgan guiding him with a deadbolt-like grip.

Rossi spots (Y/N) in a break room with a hot drink in her hands. While making his way over there, Spencer follows him. He wants to talk with her as well.

“(Y/N) I’m sincerely sorry if I hurt you earlier. I didn’t intend to scare you, we just had to act quickly and you were the only source of information available. I also wanted to tell you, that your achievements are astonishing and I guarantee you a bright future, maybe even at the FBI”, he winks at the end of his last sentence.

“I understand, Agent Rossi. But doesn’t everybody know their IQ? I assumed everybody gets at least tested once in their life in some way”, she asks with surprise in her voice.

At that the older man is speechless. Of all things she could accuse him of legitimately, (Y/N) goes with the most innocent question.

“Actually, not everybody gets tested. A reliable test has to be done by a psychologist and most people don’t go to one. Furthermore there has to be a valid reason to do one, that’s why a great part of the population doesn’t know their IQ”, intervenes Spencer. He has to infodump, since the last time was over half an hour ago.

“But you also have to differentiate between the several kinds of intelligence, because intelligence is way more than being good at math. There…”

Rossi stopped listening to the excited interaction between the two geniuses. Instead he watches their body languages and facial expressions. He hasn’t seen both of them more at calm than they are now.

After all there might be a way for (Y/N) to get a little Happy End.

[malinaa]

rules: you must answer these statements and tag 20 people tagged: @rosesau tagging: @bluepinstripes | @ttimbradford | @calnovas | @oretsev | & whoever wants to do this <3

THE LAST

1. drink: milk tea boba 🧋 2. phone call: my mom  3. text message: @rosesau 4. song you listened to: i am always listening to music so the current song playing rn is all the pretty girls by vera blue 5. time you cried: idk maybe last month 6. dated someone twice: no 7. kissed someone and regretted it: yeah 8. been cheated on: no 9. lost someone special: no 10. been depressed: probably 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: no

3 FAVORITE COLORS

12. a soft green 13. a deep blue 14. sunset pink

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU

15. made new friends: girl idk 16. fallen out of love: no 17. laughed until you cried: yes 18. found out someone was talking about you: yes 19. met someone who changed you: no 20. found out who your friends are: sure 21. kissed someone on your facebook list: who the fuck uses facebook. also no

GENERAL

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: girl... WHO uses facebook!!! 23. do you have any pets: 3 dogs 24. do you want to change your name: no 25. what did you do for your last birthday: i ate a LOT!! like a LOTTT 26. what time did you wake up: maybe 8smth am 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: on tiktok (sorry)  28. name something you can’t wait for: rereading tgt to prep for s&b s2 29. when was the last time you saw your mom: lliterally a few seconds ago 31. what are you listening to right now: mess it up by gracie abrams 32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: uh. not sure. probably not 33. something that is getting on your nerves: nothing atm 34. most visited website: tumblr... 35. hair color: black 36. long or short hair: medium (bob length) 37. do you have a crush on someone: no 38. what do you like about yourself: im v sexy &lt;3 39. piercings: none (my ear piercings closed ☹️) 40. blood type: i do not know for the life of me ngl 41. nickname: lys 42. relationship status: single 43. zodiac: leo 44. pronouns: she/her ig 45. favorite tv show: um... i don't think i Have one???? 46. tattoos: no :/ 47. right or left handed: right  48. surgery: does wisdom teeth extraction count 😭 50. sport: No. 51. vacation: going 2 vegas next month i think 52. pair of trainers: umm adidas ?

MORE GENERAL

53. eating: just finished a bag of doritos spicy nacho chips 54. drinking: literally boba... 55. i’m about to: turn on the light 56. waiting for: books to arrive? 57. want: an mfa (i just miss being in a writers workshop)58. get married: sure 59. career: writer probably 

WHICH IS BETTER

60. hugs or kisses: idk 61. lips or eyes: lips 62. shorter or taller: idk  63. older or younger: IDK 64. nice arms or nice stomach: oh. Arm 65. hook up or relationship: relationship 66. troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER

67. kissed a stranger: yes 68. drank hard liquor: yes 69. lost glasses/contact lenses: yes 70. turned someone down: yes 71. sex on the first date: no 72. broken someone’s heart: idk maybe 73. had your heart broken: no 74. been arrested: no 75. cried when someone died: no 76. fallen for a friend: yah

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

77. yourself: sure 78. miracles: sure 79. love at first sight: in the hozier way 80. santa claus: no 81. kiss on the first date: sure 82. angels: yes

OTHER

84. eye colour: brown 85. favourite movie: I Don't Know!

[thebiggestfan1]

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 3)

part one here

part two here

This is the last part of this mini-series and I hope you enjoyed it! Requests are open btw, so don’t be afraid to ask for an imagine with any NHL player :))

Word count: 1464 words

TW: mentions of sex, language

...

The thing that woke you up was the bright light shining through the windows.

Shit. What time was it? You probably should have been already working - for hours.

As you looked around yourself, you started realizing this wasn’t your apartment. Everything here looked so blank and expensive and then you remembered that-

That you kisssed Matthew while he was drunk. That you fucked Matthew while he was drunk.

You groaned silently, still too sleepy to actually cry. What had you done?

You thought you were okay with staying just friends. But here I am, you thought to yourself as you climbed out of the bed.

Your body felt sore and relaxed at the same time. It was a long time since you slept with someone and actually enjoyed it like this. And even though you should be ashamed of yourself, you let yourself enjoy that feeling.

Just then you realized that the other side of Matt’s huge bed was already empty and cold. There was no sign of him in the living room or in the kitchen - he probably left a long time ago, maybe already preparing for his upcoming game.

But the smell of him lingered on the sheets like a distant memory, bringing back the thoughts of yesterday's events. His hot skin touching yours, his warm breath caressing your breasts...

Shit.

Just... shit.

And so you put on your yesterday’s clothes, write a quick note for Matt and leave his apartment without looking back.

...

It’s been two weeks since you woke up at Matthew’s apartment. Since then, you ignored his calls and texts, pretended you weren’t home when he knocked on your door and worked overtime when he waited for you at the reception.

Yes - it’s not ideal but it worked for 14 whole days. And it gave you some time to think.

As you were leaving your office, thinking only about going to bed, you realized you didn’t check if Matt was waiting for you - but too late. A hand gripped lightly your elbow, making you halt in your tracks.

“Y/N, why the fuck are you avoiding me?”

He sounded a bit angry but mostly tired and hurt. He looked tired, too - those were dark circles under his beautiful eyes.

And you just stood there, trying to come up with a good enough excuse.

Because we fucked, Matthew, you wanted to say. Because I love you and I’m afraid you’re gonna break my heart. Because I don’t want to lose you or our friendship. But wouldn’t avoiding him for a few more weeks destroy your friendship as well?

“You can’t- you can’t just leave, Y/N. What happened happened and if you want to, we can ignore it but you can’t just keep walking around it. You can’t just leave like I did all those years ago. And I’m so so sorry I did so and it’s totally my fault if you feel like I might do that again but you have to trust me that I have no reason to do so.”

Matthew looked... scared. Was it because he was afraid you’d leave him behind? Afraid of tasting his own medicine?

You still didn’t know what to say. You wanted to believe all he was saying but the memory of you crying when he abandoned you was still playing in your head. He did so just because of some stupid promise he told nobody about. What’s stopping him from doing so again?

“I panicked when I came back home that morning - I went shopping because I had no food at the apartment and I wanted to make you a perfect breakfast. And when I came back, you were gone and all you left behind was a note with only one word on it - goodbye. So yeah, I panicked. Of course I panicked. And I know I’m the reason you did it but I have no idea how to make things right. I don’t know how to make you trust me like you once did...” Matthew tugged at his curls, his hair all messy. He let out a sigh, trying to avoid your searching gaze.

"Matt-" you stopped your arm from touching his hair even though you wanted to comfort him so badly. It'd be so easy to let yourself trust him. Too easy; and that scared you more than anything. "I need time. Just- just take me out for dinner or something. We'll take things slowly and then we'll see how that turns out."

He looked at you as you spoke, watching the shape of your lips while nodding slowly. A small smile formed on Matt's lips and he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks went red a bit as you realized he'd do whatever you needed and won't ever ask for more than you're prepared to give him. The night two weeks ago wasn't your fault; it was yours. Matthew was drunk and never forced you to do what you did. It was you who ruined things.

"Do you have time right now?"

"Yeah, I guess." you answered, smiling up at him.

"Then I'll take you out for dinner."

Hand in hand, you realized it'd be so easy to get used to the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

...

A month later, Matt took you to a lunch with his family. It was a long time since you've seen any of his siblings so you were super excited - but also super nervous.

You two took things really slow. Matt took you out every day if he had the time and hasn't even kissed you once. Sometimes, you wanted him to do so. Sometimes, it was the only thing you could think of.

The nostalgia hit you as soon as you saw Chesterfield again. You closed your eyes, already knowing where would the car turn on the road. You kind of missed this city - it reminded you of your childhood and of Matthew.

He was sitting next to you, driving the car, one hand on the steering wheel and the second on your thigh, drawing cirles on your jeans.

"Do they remember me?" you asked, your eyes still closed.

"Of course they remember you," Matt murmured and sang a few lines of the song playing on the radio - your song, one from the playlist on the USB that was hidden for years in the time capsule.

After Matt got drafted, you stopped talking to his family. You were mad at all of them even though it was a stupid thing to do. But now as an adult, things would be different. Yeah, you probably could be mad at Matt's dad for all the things Matt wrote you in that letter but... He only wanted his son to be happy - you'd probably do the same.

So, when the car stopped, you got out and greeted his family as nicely as you could. It took you some time to recognise Taryn as she hugged you, because last time you saw her, she was just a kid. And now... She and Brady were both adults.

"Nice to meet you again, Y/N," said their mom, Chantal as you shoot hands. Her husband smiled at you from the table where all of them were already seated and Matthew wrapped one arm around your waist as he pushed back the chair for you.

Everyone talked, laughed and enjoyed the autumn day with bright smiles on their faces. None of them seemed to mind your presence and you felt like a part of this happy family.

Halfway through the lunch, Matt pushed his chair closer to you as he whispered into your ear:

"What are you thinking about?"

You looked at him, at his bright eyes and eased smile. At the way he touched your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear. And you realized how much he cared for you and that there was nothing that could keep you two apart this time.

No more tiptoeing. No more 'taking things slow'.

"I'm thinking about how I trust you more than I trusted anyone in my life. I'm thinking about how I love you more than I loved anyone in my life."

His smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It was full of love and care and you didn't realized you were crying until Matt wiped the tears off your cheeks.

"You want to know what I'm thinking about?"

You simply nodded.

"I'm thinking about our future and about how happy you make me, Y/N. I'm thinking about how lucky I am that I can call you mine. I love you so much, Y/N." he whispered, taking one of your hand in his and intertwining your fingers.

"I love you too, Matt. And I promise I will never say goodbye to you."

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Too Many Mistakes - Part 2 (S.CB)

Warnings : swearing, mentions of cheating, smoking

Word Count : 2008

Synopsis : a year after she left, she was face to face with him once again. in the past, she forgave him without him trying. but this time, he was going to prove to her that he could be the man she deserved.

Author’s Note : i wasn’t intending to write a part 2, but an anon requested it so I wrote it for them. i hope you enjoy this part 2! if anyone else has any requests, let me know. i’ll try my best!

He spent the next year alone, waking up in an empty bed made for two, her side completely untouched. Sitting at the table to eat, looking at the empty chair across from him wondering if she was eating wherever she was. Coming home to the place that no longer feels like home, not with her gone.

           He messed up time and time again, that he knew. She was always forgiving, loving him in a way he knows he never deserved. He no longer goes to the club, no longer entertains other women, and instead spends his days alone, holding onto a love he knows deserves better. But he wants to be better; for her. Anything for her.

           After traveling for a couple months, she returned to Seoul, moving into a new apartment, and getting her life back on track. She enrolled in university after finding her dream and got a delivery job that works around her school hours. After a year, things were finally falling back into place.

           Until they fell apart. She stood in front of the place she once called home, holding a bag filled with an order she knew all too well. It’s been a year, but he was still the same. He was still the only man she’s ever loved, but today he was just a customer. “Y/N.” Her name always sounded the best coming from him.

           “Delivery.” She handed him the brown paper bag. “Cash or card?” She already knew the answer, pulling out the portable debit machine and handing it over before he could even say a word. She took this time to study him. His hair was a mess, sticking up in random directions, and he had dark circles under his eyes. When the machine was back in her hands, she turned to leave, hoping he would let her go.

           “Can I talk to you?” But he didn’t. It’s been a year since he’s last seen her, and he wanted to take her in just a little longer. He doesn’t deserve anything from her, not even a minute of her time, but he was going to ask. And she gave it to him. As if one year hadn’t passed, as if he was still her boyfriend. She stood in front of him, waiting for another excuse like all the ones from the past. “I’m sorry for not loving you the way I should.” But they didn’t come.

           “What’s your excuse this time?” He didn’t say anything at first, not used to the bite of her words. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, and sorry is nowhere near enough to fix the hurt he gave her, and he knew that. He knew a year was a long time, people change in shorter periods of time, but he couldn’t help but miss the girl she once was. So loving, so forgiving. But he knows he’s the reason she changed, he’s the reason her walls are built so high up.

           “I don’t have one, not this time. I’ve been kicking myself in the ass ever since you left. But I know I deserved to be left. You’re a diamond, but I treated you like dirt.” He took a step closer to her and her feet stayed planted on the ground. “And I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

           “I don’t forgive you.” He nodded but still took another step closer to her. “I forgave you too many times. You no longer deserve my forgiveness.”

           “Let me earn it.” Her eyes went wide at his words. “I never did anything in the past to earn your forgiveness. So let me earn it this time.” He was still the same Changbin that stole her heart all those years ago, but he was so different from the Changbin she left a year ago. She knows he doesn’t deserve this chance; he doesn’t deserve her. But he’s still the man that owns her heart. No matter how hard she tried to forget him, how hard she tried to move on, it still came down to him. She always came back to him.

           “I make no promises, but you can try.” A soft smile spread across his lips before he pulled her in for a hug. He still smelled like her Changbin, but he hugged her tighter. He held her as if she would disappear if he let go. “I have to get back to work, but my number is still the same.” She pushed him away, got into her car, and drove away.

           She didn’t expect him to reach out, to actually try and earn her forgiveness. But he did. He woke up earlier to deliver her favourite coffee from her favourite café every morning before her class. He spent his weekends with her, giving her the attention she had to beg for in the past. He tried his best to show her he was going to love her right this time; if he got the chance.

           “Are you free this weekend?” Jisung, a classmate and friend, asked as they exited the school. “I have a show on Saturday and I was hoping you’d come.” She could see the hope in his eyes and happily agreed.

           “Y/N!” Her and Jisung looked in the direction of the voice calling her name. Changbin pushed himself off his car and walked towards them. “Did you want to grab something to eat before your shift?” Jisung looked between the ex-couple, wondering who this man was, and why she never brought him up before.

           “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sungie.” She waved goodbye to her confused friend and followed Changbin to his car, getting in when he opened the door for her.

           She really didn’t want to fall in love again, especially with Changbin. But he makes it so hard when he looks at her like she’s the only girl in the world. And to Changbin, she is. She is the only girl he’s ever loved, the only girl he will ever love. He can’t believe he ever allowed another girl to take him away from the beautiful girl in front of him. No one has ever compared.

           “Where are you going?” Changbin asked as he stood in the living room of her apartment, watching her rush around to finish getting ready. They spend every weekend together, but now here she is getting ready to spend Saturday evening with another man.

           “I told you yesterday, Bin. Jisung has a show tonight and I promised I’d be there.” She grabbed her purse from the kitchen table before walking towards the door to put her shoes on. “You can come if you want.” He didn’t hesitate in following her out the door and to the club Jisung was performing at. A club Changbin recognized all too well. It’s been 14 months since he last stepped foot in this club.

           The place was crowded, more than he remembered, but she seemed to know exactly where to go. He wondered how many times she’s been here. If she always goes to Jisung’s shows. Is he the person that kept her company all these months? “You made it!” Jisung exclaimed when he saw her, throwing his arms around her.

           “Have I ever missed one of your shows, Sungie?” Changbin stood back a couple steps, watching the way the two interact. She doesn’t seem to hold back with Jisung, not the way she holds back with him. Her smile was wide and she seemed truly happy, happier than when she’s with him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought Changbin.” At the mention of his name, Changbin took the few steps forward and properly introduced himself.

           “Nice to meet you, Changbin.” He could immediately tell why the two of them got along. Within seconds, Changbin knew Jisung was a better option for her. Jisung would never make the mistakes he made.

           Jisung soon disappeared backstage to prepare. “I think you’ll really like him, Bin.” He smiled as he draped his arm across her shoulders, keeping her close to him. He fully expected her to push him away, but she moved closer to him, smiling softly back at him.

           “If you think I will, then I’m sure I will.” People were surrounding them, but his eyes were only on her. He only has eyes for her.

           “Oh my god! Binnie, is that you?!” Changbin turned when he heard his name over the loud chatter around him, his arm falling from her shoulders as he came face to face with a girl he barely recognized. “It is you!” She wrapped her arms around him, but he didn’t return the hug, instead pushing her off him. “Oh come on Binnie, it’s me!”

           “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you, and I’m here with someone.” He turned to introduce this strange girl to his true love, but she disappeared. Immediately, he started searching for her, frantically running through the crowds of people, desperate to explain that he truly only had eyes for her. He will only have eyes for her.

           After searching the whole club, he made his way outside, spotting the love of his life sharing a cigarette with a man he didn’t recognize. A man with a kind face and broad shoulders. As he got closer, he could see Jisung beside them, shaking his head at whatever she was saying. “Y/N.” Changbin softly called out, causing all three of them to look at him.

           “No.” Jisung said, taking a protective step in front of her, but she pushed herself forward, telling Jisung it was okay.

           “I wanted to believe you, Bin, but you haven’t changed. You’ll never change. I can’t forgive you, no matter how hard you try to earn it. So just walk away.” She turned back to Jisung and the other man, but Changbin wasn’t going to back down, he wasn’t going to lose her again.

           “No. I’m not going to walk away. Not this time, not any time.” When she faced him this time, he could see the tears that threatened to fall, but he refused to be the reason she cried, not this time. “I promise you I have no idea who that girl was. If you had waited just a couple more seconds, you would have seen me push her off and try to introduce her to you. Because I’m all about you. I made mistakes in the past, too many to count, but I will never make those mistakes again. Because I know what it’s like to be without you, and it’s fucking hell, Y/N.” His voice was getting louder and louder the more he spoke, but he had years to make up for. Years of sitting idly by while he watched her hurt. She always fixed everything even when it wasn’t hurt fault. Now it’s his turn. “I stopped going out after you left. I didn’t even try to move on because I knew no one could ever compare to you. It’s always been you, and I wish I realized that before I ruined everything. But I am not walking away. I am never going to stop trying to earn your forgiveness. Because I love you, and I fight for what I love.”

           “What if I can never forgive you?” She met his eyes as the tears began to fall. He cupped her face, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

           “Then I’ll never stop trying to earn it. Because you’re worth it, Y/N.”

           “You really didn’t know her?”

           “Not a clue.” He whispered, wiping another tear as he blinked back his own. He sees now just how badly he broke her, but he will spend a lifetime putting her back together.

           “Kiss me.” She whispered. And he did. No hesitation. She knew there was still things they had to work on, things to talk about. He made a lot of mistakes in the past, and she forgave him too many times. She forgave him without him having to work for it, but not this time. This time, Changbin earned her forgiveness.

[emwritesfootball]

Dirty Little Secret | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

It's midnight PST which means I'm so far past the deadline for @footballffbarbiex's Summer Writing Challenge but I don't really care. Please enjoy the millionth version of 'sneaking around with a rival' but with DCL. This one's for the babes: @sweetlikesugar9 @dclsbaby @domspeach

Word Count: 3,610

Warnings: light mentions of smut, sneaking around

- - -

Your phone felt heavy in your pocket. You wanted so badly to pull it out and reread the text you’d been sent an hour ago, but then Jordan would be suspicious and you didn’t want to try to cobble together some half-assed explanation that would ultimately end in disaster.

“Are you listening to me?” Jordan asked, huffing your name in frustration. “I swear, you’ve been spacy for the last week. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied, rolling your eyes. Jordan gave you a disbelieving look, so you elaborated, “Work has been kicking my ass and I’m annoyed, okay? I know it’ll pass, but I’d just like it if you let me handle it on my own.”

Jordan’s face softened. “I’m sorry. And I won’t, alright?” When you nodded, he continued, “But you know that if you ever need me to step in and use my name, I will.”

“I know,” you said, giving him a teary-eyed smile. “You know how much I don’t want that, but if it comes down to it, I’ll let you know.”

“It’s just...you’re my little sister, and I worry about you.” Jordan wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into a hug.

“Yeah, yeah - I appreciate it.” You paused, finally remembering the conversation from earlier. “Wait, you were saying something about England?”

Jordan smiled, launching into the conversation. “I just got the call from Southgate today. He told me I’ll be part of this upcoming England squad.”

“What?! Jordan, that’s incredible!” You squealed, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks. I was hoping I’d get the call-up, but with each camp, you never know. And I get older every year and-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you scoffed, waving him off. “You’ve done so much for the club and you deserve this. Take the win and move on.”

“I hate it when you’re right, you know.”

You giggled, shoving him playfully. “It feels weird to be the one dispensing life advice to my older brother, so don’t worry, it’s just as weird for me, too.”

You left Jordan’s place a little while later, promising to help him plan an England get-together once the rest of the squad was announced.

Once you were back home, you finally pulled up the text you’d been both excited for and dreading about replying to.

Dominic: When can I see you again?

Just as you started typing, the three dots on his end popped up and you couldn’t help the rush of excitement that pooled in your belly when his latest text came through.

Dominic: I just got good news. Come over and celebrate?

You: I’m on my way

***

The moment Dom opened his front door, his lips were on yours. He pinned you against the door, kissing you hungrily as his hands slid up your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, loving the way his body fit against yours as he swallowed the sound.

“What…” Your thought was cut off as Dom sucked on the sensitive spot on your neck. “What was the good news?”u

“Later,” Dom hummed, nibbling on your earlobe. “I wanna celebrate first.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” You giggled, the sound quickly turning to a breathy whimper as one of Dom’s hands slid between your legs. “Fuck, Dom! It makes sense - please just take me to bed.”

Dom smirked, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bedroom. He threw you down on the bed, kneeling between your legs as he started to undress you. It had only been a little over a month since the two of you started sleeping together, but neither of you could get enough of each other.

Your name was on his lips as he sucked a mark into your hip, watching as you dug your heels into the mattress while he kissed his way up your inner thighs before sucking on your clit and making you cry out. “You’re always so responsive for me,” he praised, chuckling as he slid two fingers inside you. “So sexy.”

“Please, Dom!” You whimpered, burying your fingers in his curls. “Please make me cum already!”

He responded to your pleas, flipping you over onto your stomach and driving his cock into you. One hand was around your throat, the other smacking your ass as pure filth spewed from his mouth with every thrust. Dom made you feel dirty in the best possible ways and it wasn’t long before you were cumming around his cock, feeling his cum coat your inner walls as he released his own orgasm inside you.

“So, what’s the news?” You asked as you cuddled with Dom, your head on your chest with one hand tracing patterns across his forearm.

“I can’t believe I almost forgot - I got called up to the England squad for this upcoming run of matches.”

He said it so casually that you almost didn’t register what he’d said. “Wait, what?”

“I got another call-up!”

Your stomach bottomed out and you thought you were gonna be sick. “Dom, that’s amazing!” You said, hoping he didn’t notice how preoccupied you sounded.

“Thank you!” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, a much more intimate gesture than the two of you usually did, but you didn’t question it. “You’ll come see me play, right?”

“Of course,” you promised, hoping you sounded sincere.

When he drifted off to sleep, you were still up, your mind racing as you tried to figure out how you were going to tell Dom that you were Jordan Henderson’s baby sister.

***

Anfield. Last Spring.

You flashed your Friends and Family pass to the staff, feeling a bit awkward as you looked for Rebecca and the kids. It wasn’t often that you used the ticket Jordan purchased, preferring the season tickets you’d gotten with friends ages ago on the off-chance you were recognized. The only time you did was for Derby matches, and today was no exception; the ‘Henderson 14’ burning a hole in your back as you took your seat.

The whistle blew and the match began. You were as nervous as you always were during Derby matches, your heart in your throat every time Jordan got the ball. You were always worried something would happen to him on the pitch, what with the countless injuries he’d had over the years.

You cheered along with the rest of the spectators when Mo put one in the back of Pickford’s net a couple minutes outside of the 20th. Richarlison scored moments before the end of the first half, tying it up before the start of the second.

There was a penalty call early on in the second half and your heart stopped as you watched Jordan step up to take it. He hadn’t been in good form to take a pen all season, having missed three of his four pens so far, and you peeked through your fingers, hoping the ball would slot right into the back of the net.

...

It didn’t.

It didn’t, and you were devastated. Suddenly, you didn’t want to be wearing your brother’s jersey anymore. You felt sick as all the friends and family of your brother’s teammates gave you sympathetic pats and hugs while the match wore on.

When Mo scored his second of the night, you screamed until you were hoarse. It wasn’t long after that and the final whistle was blowing and the match ended 2-1 in favour of Liverpool. You hugged Jordan tightly when he finally appeared, giving him a small smile. “Sorry about your pen.”

He stiffened and you instantly knew you’d hit a nerve. Sometimes, he was able to laugh these things off, but tonight apparently wasn’t one of those nights. “Fuck off.”

“You’ll get the next one, I’m sure.” You winced internally as the words came out of your mouth and Jordan’s expression darkened.

Your name was an angry growl on his lips as he said, “If you’re trying to make me feel better, just don’t. I don’t need your sunshine and rainbows opinion - if I want it, I’ll ask, got it?”

His condescending tone ignited your own nerve and you got in his face. “Go to hell, Jordan,” you hissed, your eyes involuntarily welling with tears at the angry confrontation. You turned on your heel and stormed off, ignoring Rebecca’s pleas for you to come back.

You sat in your car, waiting for the tears to subside. It wasn’t often that you fought with him, and to make matters worse, you’d been staying with him for a bit while you looked for a place of your own, so you couldn’t even avoid him at home.

Instead of going home, you headed to your favourite pub. It was low key, and you knew there probably wouldn’t be too many people in there so you could drink in peace. You changed out of the jersey, throwing on a t-shirt you found in the backseat of your car, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself than usual.

“Can I buy the next?” A man’s voice asked, and you turned to find Dominic Calvert-Lewin sitting on the barstool next to yours.

“Sure,” you said, giving him a small smile. “As long as you let me buy the one after that.”

“You’ve heard, I take it?” Dom gave you a sheepish smile, ducking his head and looking away.

“I was there. Thought you had it for a minute there when that pen didn’t go in.”

“Me, too. I had a couple good shots in there, but none of them ended up going in.”

“I saw.” Dom gave you a look at your comment and the two of you burst into giggles. “Sorry, I just had to say it.”

“Clearly, you know who I am,” he started, his gaze raking over your body. “Can I at least get your name? You look so familiar...”

You debated giving him your middle name or a fake name altogether, but ultimately gave him your real name, conveniently leaving out your surname. He rewarded you with a full-blown smile that you felt all the way down to your toes; a smile that made you think about what it would be like to kiss those lips.

A couple hours later, and you didn’t have to wonder what it felt like to kiss him. His lips were on yours in the back of the Uber as the two of you headed back to his place. Another hour after that, and you were discovering all the other things his mouth and hands could do, loving the way his body felt against yours.

When you left in the morning, you felt like you had a secret that was only yours to keep - and Dom’s, of course - but this was you sticking it to your brother by sleeping with one of his rival club’s players while also getting some much-needed sex.

A week later, you were grinning down at your phone as you read Dom’s latest text.

Dom: So, when can I see you again?

***

Jordan’s House, Present Day

“We’ve got everything we need, right?” Jordan asked, frantically looking around his kitchen. The counter was fully-stocked with all the alcohol he could possibly need, there was enough food to feed an army, and everything was as it should be.

“Yes,” Rebecca confirmed, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a kiss. You shut your eyes and made a face, still not used to seeing your brother be intimate with his wife. “Everything’s going to be great. The team should be arriving in about an hour, so don’t go too crazy waiting for them, okay?”

Jordan nodded and you laughed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to do that. “Well, if neither of you need me, I’m gonna go nap in the guest room,” you announced. “Wake me if I sleep through my alarm?”

“Sure.”

You went up to the guest room, setting your alarm to give yourself half an hour to get ready for the party.

***

The party was on by the time Dom walked through the door. Someone put a beer in his hands and he made the rounds, catching up with players he hadn’t called teammates since the last call-up.

“Hey!” Hendo shouted, waving at Dom from his lounge chair by the pool. “Calvert-Lewin, as I live and breathe. How are you?”

Dom brought it in for a hug, laughing. “I’m good, I’m good.”

“I’d ask how you’re coping with losing to us yet again in the Derby, but I’m sure you had no problem finding some willing girl to console you.”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve been seeing this girl for a few months now. Hooked up with her the night we lost to you and haven’t really looked back.”

“Good for you. She coming to the matches?”

Dom shrugged. “Not sure yet. Haven’t really done much talking, if you know what I mean.”

Hendo smirked. “Nice.”

Just as Dom was about to say more, Rebecca came running over. “Jordan, have you seen your sister? I think we’re running out of drinks and she said she’d run to the store if we needed her to and well, we need her to.”

“Is she not up from her nap?” Hendo asked, his brows furrowing when Rebecca shrugged. “Okay, can you go see if she’s awake? I’ve kind of got my hands full.”

“Yeah, I-”

“Mummy!” One of the kids ran up to Rebecca, drawing her attention away. “Dom! Good to see you! Can you go wake my sister-in-law?”

“Sure. Where is she?”

Hendo gave him directions and Dom was off, searching for the guest bedroom.

“Hello?” He asked, lightly knocking on the closed door. When he got no response, he turned the handle and opened the door. “Hendo’s sister?”

***

Shit. You’d slept through your alarm and now someone was waking you up. And to make matters worse, they were calling you ‘Hendo’s sister’. “What?” You asked groggily, shifting.

“Your brother needs you.”

The voice sounded familiar but you were too tired to figure out why. “Okay. Can you turn on the light?” The sound of the switch being flipped and the light hit you. “Oh, fuck, that’s bright!” You covered your eyes, blinking rapidly to try to get used to the light.

You heard your name being whispered incredulously and you realized it was Dom standing in front of you.

***

Dom couldn’t believe it. Here you were, standing - well, technically sitting in bed - in front of him and you turned out to be Jordan Henderson’s little sister. “You’re…” He trailed off, unable to say the words.

“Yeah.” You looked down at your hands, not wanting to see the look on his face. “Jordan Henderson is my older brother.” You heard the door shut and you looked up, not expecting him to still be standing in front of you.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Dom asked, his expression blank as he crossed his arm and leaned against the door. “You’ve had plenty of chances to tell me and you haven’t. Why?”

“I just… I don’t know.” You sighed, looking up at the ceiling as you struggled to find composure. “Everybody treats me differently when they find out who my brother is, so I don’t exactly go around telling everyone I meet that my brother is… who he is.”

“But we’re sleeping together! Hell, I’ve got you in my bed more than half the nights of the week and you still didn’t think to tell me?!”

“Dom!” You hissed, fear coursing through your veins. You didn’t want anyone to overhear him even though you knew they were probably too busy with the party. “I didn’t think to tell you because I didn’t think we were that serious!”

Dom looked furious. His jaw clenched and he stormed over to you, kneeling on the bed and taking your face in his hands. He kissed you hard, pinning you underneath him and all you could do was loop your arms around his neck and kiss him with everything you had. “How’s that for serious?” He asked, breathing heavily as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m here, kissing you in your brother’s house where anyone could discover us, and you don’t think I’m serious.”

“I-I get it now,” you stuttered, smiling at him. “Can we just wait a little while before we tell Jordan about us?”

“Just as long as we tell him before we have to go back to being rivals, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave him one last kiss. “Now you’re really gonna have to leave because I’m pretty sure Jordan didn’t send you here to come into the guest room and kiss me senseless.”

Dom chuckled at that. “He definitely didn’t. Pretty sure Rebecca was saying something about needing you to run and grab more alcohol, too? But the point is that we need to get you out of this bed and to the right people.”

***

You couldn’t stop staring at him. Dom was right across the room, chatting it up with Rice and Mount, laughing with the two footballers. He caught your gaze, giving you a subtle wink before turning back to say something to Rice. You watched him pull his phone out, your own vibrating in your back pocket moments later.

Dom: Meet me in the guest bedroom… Five minutes

You tried to keep the smile off your face, but it was impossible. “Who’s the guy?” Came Rebecca’s voice over your shoulder.

You gasped, hoping she didn’t see Dom’s name at the top of the contacts list before you shut it off. “Uh, nobody? Just a guy I’m sleeping with.”

Rebecca gave you a look. “Just a guy?” She rolled her eyes. “Not with that lovey-dovey look in your eyes, he’s not.”

“Okay, fine,” you sighed. “He’s not just a guy, but I’m not ready to introduce him to you and Jordan, okay? He’s just...not someone I would usually date and I don’t want Jordan to lose his shit, especially with these matches coming up.”

“I see,” Rebecca said wisely, giving you a knowing look. “Just don’t wait too long, because Dominic Calvert-Lewin looks like the kind of man who won’t wait around forever.”

“How did you-?” You asked, incredulous. “Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.”

Rebecca laughed. “Don’t worry - I won’t tell Jordan. That’s something you’ve gotta do.”

***

Two Weeks Later

“We can’t keep doing this,” Dom murmured in-between kisses in one of the empty rooms of Wembley. “Tomorrow’s the last match in this run of friendlies and I wanna catch Hendo on his good side when the two of us aren’t rivals.”

You giggled, the sound morphing into a moan as he kissed your neck. “After the match tomorrow, okay? I promise.”

Dom pulled away, a serious look on his face. “I’m serious. If you don’t tell him after the match tomorrow, I’m not sure I’ll be able to continue this.”

The pit of dread grew in your stomach. You wanted to tell Jordan but you’d never shown an interest in or dated any footballers before, let alone one of his rivals. It was going to be hard to convince him that you were serious about Dom, and for the first time, you realized you were serious about him.

~~~

The day of the match, you were in the stands in your ‘Henderson 8’ kit. The ‘Calvert-Lewin 18’ was underneath, your body tense with the anticipation - fear? - of telling your brother that you and Dom were seeing each other.

All your nerves went out the window the moment Dom came on and scored after less than five minutes of being on the pitch. You were on your feet with the rest of the stadium, cheering on your man as he celebrated with your brother.

The friendly ended England’s way and you were celebrating it like they’d won the World Cup. Without a second thought, you launched yourself into Dom’s arms, both of you giddy as he spun you around before setting you down on the ground and kissing you breathless.

“What the hell?!” Came Jordan’s voice, snapping you and Dom out of your own little world.

“Jordan, it’s-” you started, but your brother was furious.

“No, I don’t wanna hear it. The two of you?!” He glared at Dom. “At my party, were you talking about my sister? To me?! You’ve got some nerve, Dominic.”

Dom held up his hands. “I didn’t know she was your sister at the time, I swear!”

“It’s true: he didn’t,” you backed up your man, threading your fingers through his in a nonverbal show of support. “I knew who he was when I started sleeping with him, but he didn’t know who I was.”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what I hate more: that that’s actually believable or that I’m starting to be okay with this.”

“Really?” You asked, your eyes wide. You and Dom shared a look.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to completely love this - at least not for a year or more - but you better not hurt her, Dominic. I’m serious.”

Dom squeezed your hand, nodding with a serious expression. “Yes, sir.”

You held back your giggle at Dom’s response, not wanting to ruin your brother’s good mood. You let go of Dom’s hand to go over and hug Jordan, a bright smile on your face. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me; just make sure he doesn’t hurt you so I don’t have to hurt him.”

An hour later when you met Dom, you couldn’t stop smiling, making sure to stop in front of Wembley to kiss him one more time before he took you out on a proper date in public.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine being Sokka’s childhood best friend who left to join the war and reuniting with him years later.

You and Sokka were friends before either of you could walk. Children were in short demand in your tribe so when you were born only 6-months apart it was a given you’d be playmates but you and Sokka also became inseparable almost instantly. You both had the same dry sarcastic humour and your personalities worked well together. For the first few years of your life all you were concerned with was staying taller than Sokka and Polarbear dogs but then fire nation attacked and killed Sokka’s mother.

After the brutal attack the remaining tribesman decided to make one final stand against the fire nation and all the eligible men began preparing to leave with one exception...you. You had just turned 11 and so based on past custom weren’t too young to go to war. Of course your tribe didn’t want to take a child but your only family was your father and he was leading the war effort with Hakoda. You had no other family left to watch you and so you managed to talk your father into bringing you along. Sokka tried to do the same but as he was 10 Hakoda said he was too young. Sokka had been furious to say the least. He didn’t see why you’d be allowed and he wouldn’t be, 6 months was hardly anything and his sexist attitude made it sting all the more. He pouted constantly up until the day you left when he suddenly sprinted to the shore at the last minute and hugged you tightly. “I’m still mad at you but if only one of us can go to war....well I’m glad it’s you and not one of the other kids”. You smiled “not quite a heartfelt goodbye but i’ll take it”. “Y/n come on” your father called and you nodded. “I have to go...”. Sokka nodded “of course, kick some fire bender butt for me and erm....don’t die”. You laughed “you too” and with a final smile to Sokka joined your father and the other men to go to war.

That was 5 years ago and you hadn’t seen or heard from Sokka since. You thought about him and home a lot but honestly life at war was very demanding. You were largely sheltered from it by your fellow tribesmen and didn’t actually engage in any combat until you were 14 but still you felt the burden of the impossible victory on your shoulders. Every time you took a step forwards the fire nation seemed to push you back three...but things changed when the avatar came back. It shook the fire nation and surely but slowly you were making gains in the war.

After one successful victory you were in particularly high spirits and woke up early to go and fetch some water for you and your father. As you returned to camp you set the water down in your tent and headed to get breakfast. The camp seemed different you noted, people seemed to be hurrying to the centre excitedly and so you picked up your pace. You suddenly heard a loud cry and worrying you were under attack began to run to camp. A large group had gathered and you looked for the threat but realised everyone seemed happy...not scared. Everyone was focused on a group of men who had come out of the war tent. The group of men themselves were all talking excitedly, focused on one man in particular. You knew every single man in this camp but couldn’t work out who this one was. He was definitely water tribe and young, around your age and looked oddly familiar. He had bright blue eyes and a sharp chin which suited him very well. Everyone seemed to know him and it frustrated you that you couldn’t work out who he was. He was talking to your father and Hakoda warmly and you stared at his face feeling you knew him. Then it clicked, it was Sokka.

Sokka’s POV

Sokka had been nervous to walk into camp but the second he did everyone rushed to hug and welcome him. Sokka felt happier than he had in a long time. He stood next to his father unable to remove the smile from his face when he spotted your father and a thought occurred to him. "Where’s y/n?" Sokka asked when he spotted you feet away. You looked like you’d just arrived here and were staring at Sokka as if you couldn’t work out who he was. Sokka went to call out to you when you smiled. "Sokka?" you asked in disbelief and Sokka blushed. It may’ve taken you a second to recognise him but he’d know your face anywhere. "It’s me y/n" he smiled and your own smile turned into a large grin. You rushed forwards and hugged Sokka tightly. Sokka heard a lot of “awes” from the crowd but he didn’t process them, he was too focused on you. You pulled away and both grinned at one another babbling greetings and questions. Then there was an awkward pause where you both just stared at one another. It had been over 5 years since you’d seen each other and you had both changed a lot since then so it took a lot of effort to process. Sokka was pleasantly surprised to find he was taller than you now. As kids he had steadily caught you up over the years but you left before he could claim his victory. Now he was undeniably taller than you and he couldn’t wait to tease you about that but he noted you’d beat him in other aspects. Your arms were more toned and bigger than his, well defined and taut after the years of training and Sokka could see the same went for all your limbs by the shape of your neck and shoulders. Your hair too was longer and partially braided which Sokka had never seen before. Of course the braids symbolised battles you’d been a part of and Sokka felt proud not envious at how they decorated your face. Your face too was also more defined, your cheeks seemed higher and more angular but your eyes had remained striking and your lips still bright pink. Even the way you held yourself was different, you were a warrior now Sokka realised and that thought made him feel fuzzy.

Your POV

When the silence between you got too awkward Hakoda coughed "y/n, Sokka has travelled here from his journey with the avatar". "What?" you cried in disbelief and Sokka just smiled lazily “yeah...”. "Sokka why don’t you go with y/n to our tent and tell her all about it over breakfast?" your father suggested. Sokka nodded and you led him away to your family tent. You kept staring at him convinced he wasn’t real. Sokka had changed a lot. The height difference was a shock but not the biggest. His face had lost its baby cheeks resulting in chiselled cheekbones and his hair was a lot longer. He was more toned too, not muscley per se but his arms had definition and you struggled not noticing. His eyes were the same though and they were the one thing that made you sure this was your friend. They made you feel at ease as they always did and you just turned to Sokka and laughed “I can’t believe you’re here”. “Me either!” Sokka cried “I...I imagined this day for so long”. “We all missed you a lot” you said worried Sokka was still upset you got to go when he didn’t “and thought about you every day” you added. “You did huh?” he asked with a smirk and you realised Sokka was fine. You did not need to be worried. “I said we, not me” you said pointedly and Sokka grinned “yeah but I know you meant you missed me, you just didn’t want to admit it”. You forgot how well Sokka could see through you and shook your head “okay I guess I missed you...now tell me everything! How on earth did you become friends with the avatar?”.

Throughout Sokka’s story you stared in awe and barely touched your food. Everything Sokka told you sounded insane and you made him promise several times that he was being serious. Sokka animatedly told each part of the story and you couldn’t help smiling at how enthusiastic he was. You’d missed this and him a lot. 

“So you two all caught up?” your father asked suddenly entering the tent and Sokka shook his head “not even close! I was just telling y/n about our fight with the fire nation navy in the northern water tribe”. Your father laughed placing a hand on Sokka’s shoulder “well that will have to wait, y/n has training...maybe you’d like to join her?”. You saw Sokka’s eyes light up at the thought of attending actual warrior training and smiled. “Yes!” he cried leaping up “if erm...you don’t mind of course”. You smirked “it’s been five years since I saw you, do you really think i’m letting you out of my sight?”. Sokka blushed looking down but you didn’t notice. You were already tugging Sokka out of the tent “come on! If we show up first we get the good armour!”.

Sokka’s POV

All-day you sparred and trained in water tribe drills. Sokka was equally exhausted and exhilarated. When his father declared the session over his exhaustion won however and he collapsed on the sand and crawled to the water. He heard a laugh and you appeared next to him “tired huh?”. “No! I could go for hours!”. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Sokka sipped his water and glanced at you. You were cleaning your sword and the sun reflected off it making your eyes shine. Your eyes had always been darker than the traditional light blue, they were a very dark blue and only when the sun shone on them was their true colour illuminated, like now. Sokka forgot how beautiful they were and looked away before you could notice him staring. “You were really good in training” he said softly and you smiled glancing at him “no sarcasm? Was that a genuine compliment?”. Sokka grinned “yes! You know I can be serious”. “Wow you have changed” you smirked and Sokka blinked “you think?”. You nodded your head “you’re more mature now, you have this sureness about you and an air of confidence like a leader does...it’s nice” you smiled “and then you make a goofy face and you’re back to the 10-year old I remember”. Sokka smiled and leant back on his elbows just enjoying this moment in the sun with you. “You’ve not changed a bit” he told you and you blinked “really?”. He nodded “I saw you earlier trying to work out who I was but I didn’t need two seconds to spot you”. “Well duh i’m the only girl here!” you cried but Sokka shook his head. “That wasn’t it, I’d know your face anywhere. I worried after you left I’d forget it but you’re exactly as I remembered...every detail like I pictured”. You blushed as Sokka spoke so softly but soon regained your bearings, “and you pictured me often?”. Sokka didn’t even blink “of course I did”. Your blush rose again at Sokka’s confidence and you saw he had a small smirk on his face. Sokka went to speak again when an alarm rang out. You both jumped to your feet. “What does that mean?” Sokka asked and you frowned “nothing good, come on” and ran back to the camp. Everyone was gathered around grabbing armour and weapons. “Dad, what’s going on? Are we under attack?” Sokka called. Hakoda nodded “yes, y/n get ready, Sokka.....”.  “Dad I can fight, please let me come with you” Sokka said loudly and you looked at Hakoda to see what he’d say. Hakoda stared at Sokka before he looked directly past him to at you “how would you like to lead your first duo mission Y/n?”. You grinned “I’d love to”. “Great, Sokka stick with y/n and do everything she says, do as she does and you’ll be just fine”. Sokka nodded and rushed to your side. “This is so cool” he whispered and you smirked as you helped him put on his armour. “Don’t get too excited these things can get dangerous quickly, stay with me okay?”. “And you’ll protect me?” Sokka asked batting his eyelashes but his smirk fell away when without a second thought you nodded “of course I will”. Your low voice filled with determination made Sokka blush and look away. “You ready?” you asked and Sokka nodded “ready” and you rushed into battle.

Sokka did exactly what you said and the battle was a success. He was impressed at how much you’d learned and how great a leader you were. You largely kept the fighting away from him by making yourself the bigger target but when Sokka did engage you were always on hand to help push away any fatal blows. Sokka got out of his first battle without so much as a scratch and it was all down to you. When Hakoda declared victory everyone began to cheer and Sokka grabbed you “That was....you were amazing out there y/n!” Sokka grinned and you smiled “it’s nothing...”. “Are you kidding? There were men there twice your age and size but you knocked them aside like they weighed nothing”. “Well what about you?” you asked “you’ve clearly been training a lot since we left, I take back everything I said about your boomerang it’s a great weapon”. “Wow you’re admitting you were wrong? You had changed” Sokka smirked and you smiled.

As this was the first battle Sokka has successfully fought in he was due his first-ever warrior braid. Hakoda explained it wasn’t a large ceremony, he basically just went into a tent without a braid and came out with one but still Sokka was nervous. Of course he’d practised them lots, all water tribe children did for the day they’d get to add one to their hair but now the day was finally here....he was very anxious.

Your POV

You waited with all the other men for Sokka outside the tent. It was taking a while and you wondered what was taking Sokka so long. “I’ll just check he’s okay” you told your fathers and walked through the flap of the tent. Sokka was fiddling with her hair muttering to himself angrily. He didn’t seem to like the type of plait he was making and would shake it out each time with an irritated mutter. “Sokka?” you asked and he jumped. “I can’t get it right!” he cried “I’ve been dreaming of this day since we were five but I can’t make it work. Sokka tried again seizing his hair tightly and you noticed his hands were shaking. You came to stand behind Sokka and pushed his hands away softly “let me”. You grabbed Sokka’s hair carefully and began to braid it into the traditional warrior plait pattern. Sokka watched and saw the concentration on your face as you twisted his hair effortlessly into a pattern. “There” you said softly tying a small band around it “your first warrior plait, is it okay?”. You held up a mirror and Sokka grinned at his reflection, he was finally a warrior! “I love it!” he cried “thank you y/n” and hugged you. You laughed and hugged Sokka back, “no problem, now come on let's show it off”. You and Sokka walked outside and Hakoda grinned. “My son is officially one of us” he cried and everyone broke out into cheers. 

Sokka’s POV

Everyone crowded around to congratulate him and Sokka’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. The celebrations were well underway and all the men were keen for Sokka to join them but after a courteous sweep of them Sokka found his way back to you.

You were sat on the outskirts of the camp staring out at the ocean. “Not one for festivities?” Sokka asked sinking beside you and you shrugged “I don’t mind them...but peace and quiet are just as appealing” you smiled “that’s hard to get with a camp full of men”. As if to prove your point a loud water tribe chant broke out and you both laughed. “Well let's go for a walk then” Sokka said jumping up and you followed him. You and Sokka walked towards the ocean and you asked him to carry on his story. He talked rapidly about the attack of the northern water tribe. You listened and just let Sokka’s words sweep over you. You were mainly just watching him amused at how many expression he could pull at once and had to look away to stop yourself from chuckling. When Sokka finished his tale and took a breath you smiled “wow that sounds...unreal!”. Sokka nodded “it was, a lot of things on my travel have been like that, from moon spirits to banished princes, i’ve seen it all!”. “You’re quite the explorer aren’t you” you commented and Sokka nodded “yep, and you’re quite the warrior, we’re certainly doing our tribe proud”. “That we are” you nodded and silence fell. You were sat close together and an idea suddenly struck him. What would you do if he placed his arm around you? He wasn’t sure what made him think that, you and he had always just been friends but now...Sokka wasn’t too sure why that was. Out of everyone in camp you were the person he’s been most excited to see and that didn’t feel just like friendship to him. Without really thinking, caught up in the moment, Sokka went to move his arm when you noticed his movement and glanced down at his arm. Sokka blushed and pretended he was scratching it. “Are you okay?” you asked and Sokka nodded “yep just my arm fell asleep”. “Ow that makes sense, you know for a second there I thought you were going to put it around me...”. Silence settled and you realised Sokka had been planning on doing that. Sokka was blushing vividly and you blinked unsure what to do or say. “Sokka i...” you started when you heard loud gasps from camp and both looked up to see Appa. Sokka frowned confused, Aang wasn’t due back for another three days but here he was. Aang soon dismounted and appeared in front of you both “Sokka! Good you’re still here...”. “Yeah we just got back a few hours ago” Sokka explained "Aang this is y/n my friend from the southern water tribe and y/n this is Aang the avatar". "Wow" you said wide-eyed "it’s amazing to meet you". Aang smiled but it was a tense smile "Sokka we have to go" he cried. Aang explained Katara was in danger and worry ran across Sokka’s face. “We have to leave now” Aang said and Sokka nodded “sure just give me two minutes”. Sokka spun around and you were surprised to see he looked nervous. The tension from earlier had gone, this was more serious. "Y/n i’m sorry but i have to go..." he started to explain nervously when you cut him off. "Of course you do" you cried "Katara needs you!". Sokka smiled sadly "i know but it’s been so nice to see you again after all this time, so I was thinking...would you want to come with me?". You were utterly taken back "go with you?". "Yeah, you could travel with us? It’s dangerous and we get attacked a lot but i bet a warrior like you can handle it". You paused "Sokka i’d really like to but i made an oath to our elders to fight in this war...i don’t think i can change it and come with you no matter how much i want to". Sokka’s smile slipped but he nodded his head "it’s okay i figured as much but thought it was worth a shot". You nodded and touched his arm "are you planning on coming back soon?". Sokka bit his lip "i don’t know and we really have to go...i’ll try okay, i really will so hopefully i’ll see you soon". You nodded believing him but also studied his face again in case you didn't see him for another 5 years. "I’ll come back I promise y/n" Sokka told you and you smiled hugging him "i believe you". Sokka melted into you when Aang’s noises of impatience made him pull away. "Until then keep up the good work" Sokka smiled saluting you. You saluted him back as he walked away and flew off on the air bison with the avatar. 

Sokka made Aang tell him absolutely everything and then they sat in silence waiting to arrive back in Ba Sing Sei. Fear filled Sokka’s mind but as scared as he was, you kept coming back into his mind. He wondered what you had been about to say before Appa arrived and wondered if you could possibly, maybe like him too. The fact he liked you was a new sensation for Sokka but he realised he had just been oblivious before and it had always been there. You had always been the one he came to, the one he liked being around the most, the one he cared about more than himself or anything. He’d always liked you he just hadn’t realised it. “Your hair looks nice” Aang said suddenly “the plait suits you”. Sokka touched it absentmindedly and smiled “my friend y/n did it for me”. “The girl you were with?”. Sokka nodded “yeah she’s my best friend”. Aang smiled “I bet it was nice to see her”. Sokka nodded “it really was” and blushed, he’d find a way to see you again and he’d been damned if he had to wait another five years.

[wangxianficrecs]

Fic Finder

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1.  Hi, I'm looking for an Untamed fic, maybe you'll be able to help. It's a canon divergence AU in which WWX doesn't lose his core, Jiang Fengmian lives and it's implied that his core was transferred to JC (heavily implied; JFM retires as the Sect Leader after that). This is absolutely not the most important part of this fic but it's a paragraph that I've got stuck in my head and now I'm searching for the rest @_@ Thanks in advance! ~ @otemporaetmores

FOUND! by @notsobabblespace, who was reminded of  I’m aching and I know you are too by edenwolfie (part 3 in series, M, 23k, wangxian)

FOUND!  by @jim-is-spocks-thyla, who suggests ❤️ to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (M, 35k, wangxian) [ETA:  Oops, not this one.  JFM has no core, but he didn’t give it to JC]

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2.  Hi Mojo! I’m in need of you/your followers help in finding a fic that I read a little while ago. It was a fic where Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi lived together in Cloud Recesses and their children were Sizhui and an OOC that was younger than him. I remember SiZhui faced a lot of criticism for not being the chief cultivator’s real child? And they were happy he had a younger sibling that would be sect leader in the future because he was blood. Come to think of it, this is probably an ABO fic too. Thanks for your time 💜

FOUND! @andidontmeanto believes this is Blue Blood by PotterheadAvengerDemigod (T, 91k, wangxian, my post)

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3.  Aksks it's like 3 am but I just remembered a fic and I can't find it?? I'd really, really appreciate your help. It was a wangxian fic, maybe a oneshot idk, and lwj was kind of a nerd and wwx a badboy? So basically lwj has a massive crush on him and dresses up like wwx etc. (i think he even got an undercut) and after a party they sleep with each other at lwj's place?

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4.  i’m looking for a fic set in the where lwj’s mother killed his father? i don’t think that was a main plot point but it did show up in his backstory - any idea what this might be? ~ @thehype

FOUND!  @rentslirott thinks this could be ❤️the best of you by sysrae (E, 42k, wangxian, my post)

FOUND!  @castaways-logbook offers  The Right to Care by travelingneuritis (E, 39k, wangxian, WIP)

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5.  ... same as #6 ...

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6.  Hello friend, sorry for the inconvenience but I wanted to see if you could please find me a fic that I lost but I only remember more or less the final part, it goes more or less like this, lan zhan and wei ying are kidnapped by jin guangyao and lock them up if not I'm wrong in some cells next to lan xichen after the fights jin guangyao dies but lan xichen did know how bad jin guangyao had done and he didn't care and then to get revenge he wants to kill wei ying but lan zhan kills him and sizhui gets scared It was more or less like that, please help me ~ @isa0123lol

FOUND!  by @wangxiansfics who says that tragically it’s no longer available, but @dulachodladh found it on WaybackMachine here: Thread and Needle by haysel (M, 86k, wangxian)

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7.  Hi, Mojo! I'm glad that you're back but I hope you enjoyed your time off tumblr! Can you and/or your followers help me find a fic? I think the summary was talking about wwx and somehow they were asking mingjue for help since he's the only one who can help. The summary was in italics and it's a dialogue from some guy? And a shorter summary below. Sadly this is the only thing I can remember but I hope you can still help me

FOUND!  @alwayswenning suggests love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, has it’s own fanfic here, I just finished this last night!, my bookmark)

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8.  Sorry to bombard you as soon as you're back, but this one's driving me crazy--a modern AU where they met online. WWX thinks LWJ is an old man from how he talks. I don't remember much except the excerpt made it seem like he still was amused by/enjoyed talking to him, and Wen Qing was telling him it was a bad idea and to stop. It's not How to Fall In Love With a Catfish, tho that one is brilliant! (Also any top notch identity porn would be great) Hope your break was restful, you deserve it! Thanks

Here’s my #identity porn tag, but I’m not sure about this exact story.

I'm the anon for #8 on the fic finder. Though I'm excited to read it, the suggested fic isn't the one I was looking for. I swear I thought I saw it on here around a month ago or slightly more, but searches have failed me.

FOUND!  Rating: General Audiences by Mishaa (T, 18k, wangxian WIP) -  mysterious author LWJ (speculated to be an old man because of his formality) and infamous artist WWX paired up for an Untamed Big Bang (in an AU where JGY was the series’ antiheroic protagonist; this fic was written before the release of CQL.)

FOUND?  could you be looking for  Something Real by Latios (G, 5k, wangxian, my post) - wwx thinks lwj is an old man, but there’s no WQ.  There are many pictures of bunnies.

SIMILAR! @emilysidhe thought of ID Bro Saga by Bowandtie (T, 39k, wangxian)

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9.  Hey, how are you? Could you help me please? I've read 3 fanfics once, but I can't find them anymore. 1 - Nanny Problem, Wei is going to be the babysitter of A-Yuan, he is an omega and Lan is an alpha. 2 - Doctor Perfect, Yibo is an omega nurse and Xiao is an alpha doctor. 3 - The Baby of my Omega, Yibo is omega and Xiao is alpha, both of them are bodyguards, but Yibo has to protect Xiao in the beginning. I think they were at ao3, but I really can't find them. Can you help me please? Thank you!! ~ @weallmad

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10.  Hi! Im happy you’re back. I hope you had a good break. I missed your recommendations, but at the same time i got a break from fics and actually studied to my tests haha.  [Ah!  I’m glad to hear your time was spent productively!]  I’m looking for a fic like Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground. In the fic im looking for wangxian slowly lose their senses instead of all of them at once. Like they lose their hearing, then touch, sight etc, They can’t see each other or hear each other. I’m sorry i can’t explain very well.

FOUND?  Could you be thinking of  ❤️shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi (E, 25k, wangxian)?  Only lwj losese his senses one by one in this one, though.

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11.  heyyy im trying to find this fic where wwx died the first time he was thrown in to the burial mounds then 10 years later he gets resurrected or something. I can't find it on AO3 and it's been bugging me for days. Thank you!

FOUND!  Well, @moku-youbi offers both of these as possibilities:

Did I Not Explain Why the Sunset Turns Red? by 3988Akasha (E, 100k, wangxian)

we're starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 95k, wangxian)

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12.  Hi I am looking for a fic where wwx is a witch (/mage?) in a world where magic is being persecuted (especially in Gusu) except for Yunmeng/Lanling I think but they're still frowned upon nonetheless. Then after accidentally hurting Shijie, wwx runs away, and ends up hiding in Gusu pretending to be a servant to lwj (lwj is a prince, lxc is the emperor) but lwj actually knows of his identity and tries not-so-discreetly to protect him from being caught. Thanks!

FOUND! by @bibliobasilisk who gives us Witchfinder by misbehavingvigilante (E, 86k, wangxian)

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13.  Hi! Firstly, I'm glad to see you're back, and I hope your break was a good one! I'm trying to find a LWJ/WWX story that I had planned to read and ending up losing before I could. It was set in the immediate aftermath of the 33 lashes, LWJ is in the Jingshi recovering when a healer(?) discovers he's pregnant (by WWX). It may have been a/b/o verse, but I'm not 100% on that. Part of the story was a flashback to when WWX was still alive. Thank you!

FOUND!  by nonny themself.  It’s Unexpected Surprise by Glucose_Gremlin (E, 4k, wangxian)

SIMILAR! @mondelgel suggests my heart is kept as pure as ice in a jade vase/一片冰心在玉壶 by Daledesu (M, 21k, wangxian, WIP)

SIMILAR! from @impending-cuttlefish:  something new, something white, something blue by ariskamalt (E, 140k, wangxian, WIP)

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14.  I'm trying to find this one fic where Jin Ling finds this diary that Wei Ying wrote as the Yiling Patriarch that basically reveals everything, including the golden core reveal and it even has training tips that helps Jon Ling improve. When Wei Ying comes back, he tries everything to keep him there because he is THE best uncle now. I need to find it because it is a N E E D.

FOUND? by @theladypeartree who says, “The Truth (Untold) is jl reading jyl's journals, not wwx's though. And mordant is jl returning wwx's journals that he found, not grew up with. Neither fit #14 properly, but I seriously could not find anything closer after two solid days of searching. Good luck!“

The Truth (Untold) by anxiouswreck0_0 (g, 3k, wangxian, jin ling & wei wuxian)

or this one on ffn:

mordant by tennisnotensai (M, 18k, wangxian, here’s the link for mobile)

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15.  I have heard tell of a Sizhui/Jingyi fic where the boys end up going to Wangxian for advice about how to be intimate. Can you help me find it?

FOUND!  @manaika-chan says this one is On Advisement by LaMachina17 (M, 19k, wangxian, zhuiling, chengyi)

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16.  nm

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17.  Hi! Sorry, do you happen to know that nsfw fic where wwx is still studying in the cloud recesses and he’s reading a novel (im not sure if it was from nhs) that features a cultivator couple and there’s a scene in the book where the woman was pegging her husband? Basically wwx got curious about this and tried fingering himself. I remember he was hiding in the back mountains and then lwj eventually caught him

FOUND?  Could you be thinking of  Deep in the Woods by malkinmalkout (E, 5k, wangxian, my post)?

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18.  Ahhh I'm going crazy trying to think of a fic that I've read where Lan Zhan killed Wen Chao in a locker room and nie huaisang stood guard outside the door! Then lan zhan went to lan huan and said I killed someone and he said did they deserve it? Then it's fine. And I can't remember the name of the fic! Have you heard of it? ~ @uchihaautumn

FOUND! @artemisisdiana offers So Full Of Love (Wouldn't Know Where to Start) by witchupbitch (M, 54k, wangxian, WIP)

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19.  Hi, I was wondering if you could help me find a fic. I read it a while ago and I don't really remember all the details but it was a modern au where Lan Wangji was a police officer in this small town and Wei Wuxian comes back after years, having left the town due to some stuff. Thank you in advance.

Btw love your blog. I live for your fic recs.  [Thank you!]

FOUND?  Could you be looking for medium blues by dark_and_terrible (E,193k,  wangxian)?  It appears to be taken down atm, but it might come back (it’s done it before).

FOUND! by @grannyweatherwaxshat who offers When a Bird Flies, It Leaves Feathers by Bem_Kofi (not rated, 75k, wangxian)

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20.  Hi mojo!! First of all I luv your blog Thank you so much for all those ficrecs.  [You’re welcome!]  Actually I’m looking for a fic I read months ago. I probably found the fic from your blog. But I can’t seem to find it now 😢 it was a modern au wangxian fic (inspired by call me by ur name?) wwx was like 5 years older than lwj. (And lwj was like 16?) Wwx lives in another city but he spent around a year in cloud recesses with lwj in the past. And wwx yanli and jc visits cloud recesses again and wangxian gets 2gether

~*~

[My ko-fi.]

[only-johnny-deppp]

“Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...” 

 Johnny Depp’s NEW INTERVIEW!

Last saturday, August 14, The UK Times, released a new interview with Johnny for the Sunday Times section. It was realized sometime earlier this month, in London, probably on the same day he and Andrew Levitas were recording for the Q&A for the “Minamata” release in UK. This is Johnny’s first interview since the UK trials in London last year, and released three years after Johnny’s major interview for the British GQ Magazine. Here Johnny and Andrew Levitas speaks about “Minamata”, his future as actor and a thing or two about his personal life, although he cannot talk about the court case.

For those who couldn’t read yet, here is the FULL interview:  Enjoy.

***

“I’M BEING BOYCOTTED BY HOLLYWOOD”

Johnny Depp has a new film out this week. In the opening scene his character, the real-life photographer W Eugene Smith, says, “I’m done. I’m tired. My body is older than I am. I’m always in goddam pain. I can’t trust my f***ing dick any more. Constantly in a foul mood. Even the drugs bore me.”

I ask Depp if Smith’s despair resonated with him. Depp stops. Rocks back and forth. “That’s interesting,” he replies with painful hesitation.

“I didn’t approach playing Smith in that way… Although you bring your toolbox to work and use what is available. Having experienced...” He stops again. Depp takes any questions that might refer to his calamitous libel case last year slowly, in a mumbly, croaking drawl. “A surreal five years…”

In the film Smith needs to revive his reputation. In real life Depp’s task is even more daunting. Thanks to the judgment, everyone can call him a “wife-beater”. Now he must convince a Hollywood still convulsed by #MeToo that he’s not toxic — and that any attempt to rebuild his career is a risk worth taking. This is Depp’s first interview since the case.

We are speaking over Zoom, Depp in his London home, in front of a gold-framed painting. The 58-year-old is wearing a lot of clothes. Earrings. Floppy hat. Sunglasses. Bandana. Scarf. Checked shirt over a T-shirt with an indiscernible slogan. If you saw him on the Tube*, you might think he was off to work at the London Dungeon*, to play most of the characters.

PS. For those who are not familiar with British words: * Tube = British slang for London Underground, the subway trains. * London Dungeon = is a walk-through experience that recreates scenes from London's scary history in a mixture of live actors, special effects and rides.

Depp resumes, talking in broken sentences about the new film, Minamata, in which Smith, via Life magazine, exposes the brutal mercury poisoning of Japanese villagers in the early 1970s.

“How do we do this?” he asks rhetorically, meaning how to speak about the elephant in the Zoom. “Well, there’s no way one can’t recognise the absurdity of the mathematics.” He grins. “If you know what I mean?” No. “Absurdity of media mathematics.” He talks in riddles. “Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...”

He trails off again. He is holding a big brown roll-up of some sort. “What the people in Minamata dealt with? People who suffered with Covid? A lot of people lost lives. Children sick...Ill. Ultimately, in answer to your question? Yeah, you use what you’ve got. But what I’ve been through? That’s like getting scratched by a kitten. Comparatively.”

Last July, I went to the High Court in London to watch Depp on another screen — a video from the socially distanced court where the Hollywood star was losing a libel action against The Sun after it called him a “wife-beater”. It was the grottiest showbiz trial of the century. There were photos of the actor passed out in a foetal slump, socks on show. One lengthy exchange involved faeces. Another urination, inside or outside a house, after a violent night with his ex-wife Amber Heard.

This had all been going on for a while. In 2016 Heard applied for a temporary restraining order against him. The couple had long endured a narcotic, booze-filled, childish relationship, but that does not matter — 12 incidents levelled against Depp were proved, said the judge, and abuse is abuse, regardless of how badly they both behaved. Depp wanted to appeal, but the court said no. Next April in the US he has a $50 million defamation case against Heard relating to an opinion piece she wrote about being the victim of domestic abuse. It may be his last roll of the dice.

In the 1990s Depp was a sensitive heart-throb. Cooler than DiCaprio, edgier than Pitt. In this past year he has been stripped of his status and dignity. On day three of the trial Sasha Wass QC, representing The Sun, asked Depp about daubing a penis on a painting. He could not remember. “That would be quite a big thing, painting a penis on a picture?”  Wass asked. “Quite a big thing?” Depp asked.

It was a well-delivered line, but Depp was on show. Performing. Now he is more timid, less lucid. His people say he cannot talk about the court case given the looming US trial, yet it hangs over everything. The director of Minamata, Andrew Levitas, is also on our call — as a pub trivia aside, Levitas is married to the Welsh singer Katherine Jenkins.

The two men clearly get on. “With regards to journalism, it was important for us to put across in the film the power of truth,” Levitas says. Depp nods. “The responsibility of journalists to look after citizens of the world. [Our film] coincided with the moment important publications had to put Raquel Welch on a cover to get enough eyeballs to sell enough ads in order to put something meaningful inside. A result of that is clickbait — it’s destroying the purpose of journalism,” Levitas continues.

“You said it beautifully,” says Depp, one of the world’s most pinned-up men, who built a career on magazine covers. “I couldn’t say it better than that.”

Last month Levitas wrote to MGM, which bought Minamata for the US market but decided not to release it. He accused MGM of being concerned that “the personal issues of an actor in the film could reflect negatively upon them”. Then the letter got really strong. Levitas accused MGM of failing in its “moral obligation” to release the film and said it needed to explain to the victims “why you think an actor’s personal life is more important than their dead children”. He then attached Smith’s photos of ghastly deformities that shocked the world 50 years ago.

“It’s important that the movie gets seen and supported,” Levitas says. “And if I get an inkling it’s not going to be, it’s my responsibility to say so. Where it goes from there? I don’t know. But we have responsibility to these victims . . .”

You can see why he’s passionate. The film is good. MGM bought the film because it is good. Depp is good too. He disappears into the role, far from his more recent pantomime parts. It’s being released worldwide, just not in the actor’s homeland.

Depp, who also produced the film, interrupts. “We looked these people in the eyeballs and promised we would not be exploitative. That the film would be respectful. I believe that we’ve kept our end of the bargain, but those who came in later should also maintain theirs.”

“Some films touch people,” he adds. “And this affects those in Minamata and people who experience similar things. And for anything…” He pauses, as he does. “For Hollywood’s boycott of, erm, me? One man, one actor in an unpleasant and messy situation, over the last number of years?” He trails off. “But, you know, I’m moving towards where I need to go to make all that…” Again, he trails off. “To bring things to light.”

The fact, as I think Depp knows, is that for his career, the court that matters is not one of law, but public opinion. On social media, where a lot of minds are made up, Depp’s good reputation will always outweigh the bad, thanks to his frequently blinkered fans.

Outside the High Court, as Heard arrived, I saw Natasha, 30, yell: ��Get hit by a truck, Amber!” She is extreme, but the persistent way his fans demand that others think their idol is a saint shows a career revival will happen. After all, most filmgoers do not follow his private life at all. To them, he is Jack Sparrow, Edward Scissorhands. To them, he is a star — and a star can take an awful lot of heat before it burns out.

“They have always been my employers,” Depp says of his fans. “They are all our employers. They buy tickets, merchandise. They made all of those studios rich, but they forgot that a long time ago. I certainly haven’t. I’m proud of these people, because of what they are trying to say, which is the truth. The truth they’re trying to get out since it doesn’t in more mainstream publications. It’s a long road that sometimes gets clunky. Sometimes just plain stupid. But they stayed on the ride with me and it’s for them I will fight. Always, to the end. Whatever it may be.”

Depp will talk like this for ever — about his “truth”. Minamata is the last film Depp has listed on the industry site IMDb, where actors usually have half a dozen in development. So, yes, fans of the actor can see Depp in a new role now — it is a return, but is it a relaunch? The film was finished in 2019, way before last year’s court case. Is that it? His last film? He thinks and looks off to his bookshelves, at biographies of Betjeman and Olivier.

“Er...no,” he says, eventually. “No. No. Actually, I look forward to the next few films I make to be my first films, in a way. Because once you’ve...Well, look. The way they wrote it in The Wizard of Oz is that when you see behind the curtain, it’s not him. When you see behind the curtain, there’s a whole lot of motherf***ers squished into one spot. All praying that you don’t look at them. And notice them.”

I would ask him to explain, but I am not sure he is an explainer. Watch this space, I guess, but he is already taking a first step back. After we speak, it is announced Depp is getting the coveted Donostia award at the San Sebastian Film Festival next month. Some people are just too famous to fail.

~ Interview by Jonathan Dean, in London, for The Times UK (released on August 14, 2021)

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Two]

Night Changes Series Masterlist 

Summary: The reader fucks up. The question is, why? Poe remembers the first time he had to say goodbye to her.   

Warnings: Angst, angst, language, sadness, violence, injury description, bacta-shot briefly described. WC-5,385

A/N: This one is super angsty with some great flashbacks! Get ready because after this chapter things really pick up, maybe some of that smut will make an appearance 👀

You slammed your bedroom door shut, anger and embarrassment coursing through you. You don’t think you had ever been as angry in your 14 years, wanting to scream and throw yourself on your bed to cry. Since your mother wasn’t home, you opted for the former, letting a shrill shriek escape, filling the room with your anger.

Even as you did this, you heard the front door open and close, fast footsteps on the floor telling you he was coming straight to your room. Damn, in your blind rage you forgot to lock the front door.

Not that locking the door had ever stopped Poe from getting into the Horn household.

“Go AWAY, Poe!”

His footsteps stopped just outside your door, the brainless, annoying, terrible Poe Dameron not stupid enough to try and open your door when you were this angry. Still, he called to you through the thin wood, voice strained with regret and worry.

“Please, I’m sorry-“

“You are not, you jerk!” You yelled back childishly, as a fresh wave of tears slipped out. At least he couldn’t see them. You caught your breath before continuing, “I saw you grinning over at Charlie when you punched Tahla! You enjoyed it!”

“He was touching you!” Poe responded, “Kissing you and touching your face! How else was I supposed to-“

“You were supposed to let me make out with the hot guy, Poe!” You growled, ripping open your door to glare daggers at your former best friend's face. Not expecting you to do this, he almost fell into the room as he had been leaning against the door. Once he straightened himself up, Poe frowned down at you, bewildered.

“I didn’t realize-I mean, I thought he was being fresh. Charlie thought so too.” As if your brother had anything to do with Poe’s overprotective reaction.

You gave him your worst look, marching further into your room and tossing your jacket on your bed angrily, hands gesturing wildly. “I’ve had a crush on Tahla for like, two months, Poe! He finally asks me out and gives me a pretty innocent kiss and then you come out of nowhere and punch him! In the face!”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring at your floor now as you worked to keep any more angry tears from coming. Poe was silent for a beat, then stepped a little further into your room cautiously, as though you were an enraged mudhorn.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t know any of that, I jumped to conclusions,” You gave a humourless laugh, because when did Poe ‘better to ask for forgiveness’ Dameron ever not jump to conclusions? “Honestly, I didn’t hit him too hard, he’ll be fine.”

You couldn’t help it, you stomped your foot. As though you were a small child. You were so incredibly frustrated, you actually stomped your foot down. With another angry cry, you stormed across the room and pushed Poe, who barely moved because even just two years older he was so much stronger, broader, solid. It only made you angrier, emphasizing every other word with another hit to his chest. “You kriffing idiot, Poe! He’s never going to speak to me again now! What gives you the right, huh?”

You finally looked up at him only to see a confusing mix of emotions cross his features, the most prominent of which appeared to be regret. “I’m really, really sorry. I’m just protective of you, I know I shouldn’t have done that.” He hung his head in shame, a hand moving to rub the back of his neck tiredly. You knew him far too well not to realize how sincere he was being.  

You softened, only a little. “Poe, look,” You wiped under your eyes as you considered your words, “I like that you’re protective, don’t get me wrong. I know you love me. But you can’t just do stuff like that! I didn’t punch that girl from Tatooine when I found you guys making out last year, did I?”

Poe gave a small laugh, nodding his agreement. “Yeah, I don’t know what came over me...I promise it won’t ever happen again. Unless,” He paused and looked at you, his head tilting slightly, signature grin reappearing, “Unless you ask me to.”

“Thank you,” You stepped closer, into his space and wrapped your arms around his waist as you gazed up at your...well, you suppose he could remain your best friend. He stiffened briefly before his arms wrapped around you in return. “Poe, I love you too, you know, you idiot.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

-

You had fucked up.

It wasn’t a planet-shattering mistake that cost lives or the mission but considering your fuck up occurred directly in front of Poe, it sort of felt like it was that bad. And really, what the hell had you been thinking? Weeks of working together without issue and today was the day the cold professionalism shattered thanks to your behaviour. Kriff. And fuck.

You couldn’t explain what came over you, one minute everything was going as much to plan as it could when infiltrating a small but well-manned First Order outpost for data. Suddenly, the next moment you were disregarding protocol to shoot a Storm Trooper outside of your zone, only to miss the one hiding within your zone and getting your ass handed to you. The pain in your gut increased somewhat as you remembered the hit you’d taken not so long ago.

Temmin suddenly flipped onto a private channel, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Black-2, uh, I’m leaving Black Leader to you on this one, if that’s okay.”

You sighed, “Yes, Black-3, understood. Best to avoid the area if you know what’s good for you.”

“Yeah, I’m not getting caught in the crossfire, Major.” He agreed, before wishing you luck and cutting out.

It was almost funny when you landed and saw Temmin hoofing it quickly away from the landing zone, Karê also nowhere to be found.

Great squad, leaving you to handle the Commander’s rage on your own, you thought bitterly to yourself despite knowing full well it was anger that was deservedly going to be aimed at you.

You groaned inwardly as you watched Poe land nearby. You knew he was livid because, after your egregious failure in judgement, he ceased speaking to you entirely, which was very uncharacteristic for Poe. You had been the one giving him the indifferent, haughty attitude, which simply drove him up the wall. Instead of getting angry, he just didn’t shut up, as if he hoped eventually he’d say something to pull you out and make him feel better. He wanted you to have a big reaction, so it was the last thing you were going to give him.  

He was going to yell now, though. And you’d let him because he was your commander, you had disobeyed orders, and that was all that mattered. You were so ashamed of yourself you hadn’t bothered to update him on your condition. Which was becoming increasingly uncomfortable because the hit you’d taken to your stomach had caught you so entirely off guard you weren’t braced in any way for the impact. And the Storm Trooper had packed a mean fucking punch.

You sighed heavily before moving to exit your X-Wing, grimacing at the pain and taking it slow. You’d go to the med bay once he was finished reprimanding you, and then you were going to bed. Where you’d stay for a few days and wallow, just because you could. Today had not been your day.

You waited patiently for Poe to climb down from his ship, watching his stiff movements, the way he all but threw his helmet on the ground. Standing as tall as you could manage without straining your aching belly too much, you jerked your chin up and met his eyes levelly, your expression respectfully neutral. You braced, ready to take your dressing-down.

At least it was quiet in the hangar.

“What, and I can’t stress this enough, the actual fuck was that, Major?” He barked, storming up to you and stopping only a few steps away, his hands on his hips. Briefly, you recalled the number of times in your life you’d seen him this angry, and how he’d always stand the same. That anger had never been directed at you before, however. “You know what, don’t answer that. Instead, tell me why you think you’re above basic protocol?”

“I don’t, Commander.” You replied evenly, holding his gaze as he glared at you with the power of seven suns. You fought down the part of you that wanted to snap at him because you needed to separate the Poe you once thought was a friend from the one in front of you who was your superior.

“Because protocol includes abandoning clearing your own zone to take over in mine. Did you think I was suddenly incapable of handling myself? Did something happen which led you to believe I was incapacitated?”

His voice hadn’t risen, now it was just steady, loud but he wasn’t exactly yelling. The dripping sarcasm was more than enough to get his message across. You took a steadying breath, then paused to try and stop yourself from wincing in pain.  

“I did not think you were incapable, sir. I-I...” You faltered here because you truly had no idea why you reacted the way you did.

It was simple enough; breach the base, take down as many as possible but be quick and get BB8 to the control room to steal important data that would be harder to get from a more well-manned and larger base. Protect the droid while he worked. And up to entering the control room, all had gone well enough. Captain Temmin Wexley and Kare Kun, Black-3 and Black-4 respectfully, were with you and Poe, stationing themselves at the doors to the control room while you and your Commander breached.

You took out several officers and Storm Troopers within your zone, and you did think you had cleared it. You really did, but you were in the process of following protocol and checking when movement across the room-in Poe’s zone-caught your eye.

And you did abandon your zone. Because when you saw the downed but obviously not dead trooper raise his blaster directly at Poe from just a few feet away, something inside of you simply responded, as natural as the instinct to blink when it was too bright, you had turned and aimed your blaster at that trooper and shot him directly in the middle of his helmet.

And then the Trooper who had been hiding in your zone had pulled you roughly back way by your hair, your scalp prickling from the force, and used your distraction to his advantage when he pummeled your stomach. He had hit the air straight out of your lungs and you knew you’d have collapsed to the ground if he wasn’t holding your hair.

He never did get the chance to consider raising his blaster to finish you off, though. Poe had charged him, one moment you were crying out in pain and the next he practically pounced on the trooper, who had released you to try and defend himself until falling limp to the floor with a blaster shot to the head, Poe having wasted no time in killing him.

You had stumbled back, hitting a wall and panting heavily, watching as Poe rose from atop the trooper, turned to look at you with fire in his eyes, and then just as quickly looked away. You weren’t stupid enough to say anything, so you simply worked to catch your breath, your eyes on the droid successfully stealing the data.

At your failure to explain yourself, Poe’s brows shot up so high they threatened to disappear into his hairline, and he stepped closer to look down at you. “I’m sorry, Major, didn’t quite catch that. You want to go ahead and speak up?”

You settled on a partial truth, having nothing more to offer. “I reacted to a threat to my Commander. Poorly, yes, and for that, I do apologize.” Your last word came out strained, the pain in your stomach becoming more than distracting now when you took in too much air.

Poe noticed, his brows dropping into a frown as he gazed at you, eyes moving from your face, which was sweaty, to your awkward posture. “Are you injured?” He demanded.

You nodded, “Slightly, sir. I’ll go to the med bay after.” Ah, fuck though, it did hurt. Maybe you should just stop talking altogether until you could get a bacta shot.

Crossing his arms, Poe leaned away from you and sighed as his expression softened a little, “Just go. And don’t pull that bullshit again. Fuck, you should have been excited at the prospect of seeing me get hurt, (y/n).”

You weren’t going to give that statement any acknowledgment because he knew it wasn’t true, he just said it to be mean. Pursing your lips, you gave him one curt nod before stepping around him and making your way out of the hangar. You didn’t look back, but you sensed his eyes on you as you hunched over, clutching your stomach and hobbling as quickly as you could.

Thankfully, the med bay wasn’t too far from the hangar, though it certainly felt a lot further now that you actually wanted to be there that exact moment. You garnered a few looks as you walked along, your expression was positively livid from the pain and the shame of the day. When you came through the doors of the med bay, you saw a nurse stationed in the entryway at a neat desk, where she typed away on a datapad.

When she glanced up at you, she did a double-take before jumping to her feet, her eyes landing briefly on your flight suit patch. “Major! My goodness, are you alright?”

You bit back an angry retort and settled on a pained grunt, pointing at your stomach. “Took a serious punch here, armoured trooper.” The nurse nodded at your explanation, stepping around the desk to help lead you around the corner where a room was set up with several beds. She indicated the nearest one, which you walked up to, hesitating to sit.

“I’ll just get a healer.” The nurse said kindly, hurrying through a set of doors to your left.

You shut your eyes, tears springing up the moment you were alone. You tried to hold them in, turning carefully and slowly, slowly lowering yourself to sit gingerly on the bed.

“Fucking fuck fuck!” You hissed, the movement and shifting of weight causing the pain to spike, your back tightening in protest.

A clearing of a throat alerted you that another person was in the room now, just in front of you based on how close they sounded. But you kept your eyes shut, afraid that if you opened them tears would fall, and you hated when anyone saw you crying.

“Major, I’m Healer Derrin. I’m going to quickly assess you before giving you a bacta shot. Is that alright?” His voice sounded kind enough, a little amusement laced in his words telling you he heard your less than ladylike cursing moments before. Not that you ever cared about being proper or delicate.

You nodded, “Sure thing, doc.” Eyes still pressed tightly closed, you jerked a little when his hands slid over your wrists, gently easing your hands from clutching your stomach. You dropped them to the bed and fisted the sheets as the healer began to prod your abdomen.

You couldn’t help it, you groaned in pain as he did this, fighting the urge to push him away.

“I know, you’re doing great. Listen, I need you to lay down so my med-droid can quickly scan you for internal bleeding, can you do that for me, honey?”

Normally anyone calling you ‘honey’ would earn a swift kick to the nuts, but given the nature of your predicament and the fact he was clearly trying to comfort you, you let it slide. Without a word, you let yourself go limp and tried to lay. He caught your shoulders and helped you, saying words of comfort as you swore repeatedly. The droid got to work the moment you settled, and it didn’t take long from there.

“I need to just unzip your flight suit to get access to your buttocks, Major.”

“Yep.” You replied tightly, not giving two shits how he went about giving you the shot. His hands moved with care and respect, though you wore the standard-issue white shirt underneath your suit. You knew a few female pilots who liked only wearing their bra beneath the suit and never understood their thinking. You liked to be prepared for anything, and sacrificing comfort for sexiness never did appeal to you.

Once he finished, his hands moved to your hip, rotating it slightly and moving the fabric of both your suit and your underwear aside, your left butt cheek now exposed. You felt something cold and wet on your skin, then the sting of a needle and then pure bliss as the bacta shot was injected.

Your body immediately sagged into the mattress, a relieved sigh escaping your lips as the pain vanished. You opened your eyes as the droid removed the needle and the Healer began zipping you back up. And stars, the healer! He was like something straight out of a Corellian soap opera, the definition of tall, handsome and unfairly fit. And he was smiling at you, flashing bright white teeth as his blue eyes searched your face with professional care.

“Better?” He asked, laughing when you merely nodded happily, a noise of content humming out. So much better, you could fall asleep right that moment.

He helped you sit back up, though you didn’t need the help anymore. You felt amazing like you’d never known pain in your life. Bacta was the shit. You’d only had it twice before in your life, once when you were a teenager and the other time just after you’d joined the Resistance.

“Thank you, Healer, really.” You breathed, smiling up at him. You held out your hand, eager to correct your initial, though understandable, rudeness. “Major (y/n) Horn.”

Healer Derrin shook your proffered hand, returning your smile with his own. He had fair hair, a smattering of freckles that only made him that much more endearing, and you suddenly felt a little shy. Although he had just seen half your ass, so what was the point in feeling shy.

“Great to meet you, Major.”

“You too, wish it were under better circumstances, but I suppose this is the nature of our work.” You replied with a shrug, flushing slightly when he gave another warm laugh. You weren’t sure if you were flirting exactly, because you hadn’t done that in years, but it felt nice all the same. You’d mostly kept to yourself since coming to D’Qar, really only socializing with your team and a mechanic who had long hours. It had been a little lonely.

You stood, straightening your flight suit as the Healer entered a few notes into a datapad. “Now, if you have any sort of discomfort or pain in the next twenty-four hours please come straight here, but otherwise you’re good to return to duty.” He gestured toward the way out and you walked with him, pleasantly surprised he was walking you out. “If I can be bold, Major...?”

He stopped walking at the doors to the med bay, which opened as you turned to look up at the healer, curious. “How so?” But you could guess. He was rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his eyes warm, an almost shy nature about him suddenly.

“I...I’ve seen you around, a couple of times only but you always, that is. Uh,” He paused, laughing to himself a little as he struggled, and you tried to give him a kind smile as you patiently waited for him to get it together. “I think you’re really pretty, and I’d love to take you for a drink sometime.”

Despite sensing where the conversation had been moving, it still didn’t prepare you. You’d had a few one-night rendezvous over the years, casual intimacy for the fun of it. But this was new, not so heat-of-the-moment but rather just a pleasant man complimenting you and asking you out. “Oh,” You grinned, “That’s sweet of you. I’d like that, Healer-“

“Rush, you can call me Rush.” He was smiling too, relieved.

“Rush,” You repeated, “Well Rush, you know where to find me when you want to get that drink.” And giving him one last smile and a little wink, you spun away and stepped into the hall, feeling a little giddy.

Until you saw the back of a familiar Commander disappear around the corner ahead, shoulders stiffer than when he’d climbed out of his X-Wing half an hour before. Huh.

++

Poe had experienced too many strong emotions for one day.

Though anger seemed to be the star of the day, which was new for Poe as generally his anger burned away quickly if ever it did come up-he just wasn’t one to sit in a single emotion for very long. Today though, he’d gone from shocked outrage to seething fury to whatever the fuck anger seeing you get asked out by some cocky Healer had brought on.

When he’d watched you leave the hangar, he saw the weird way you walked and knew you’d been hiding your injury the whole time he’d yelled, something that both impressed him and fed his anger. You were supposed to report injuries to him straight away, not let them fester until you were nearly ready to pass out.

Stars, you were fucking stubborn.

He’d followed you to the med bay, concern overriding everything else, and waited by the nurses' station while you were treated. He could hear you making pained noises, trying to bite back sobs, to hide how much you were hurting. You’d always been a bit of a masochist, preferring to suffer in silence, alone, whenever possible. He’d sat outside your door growing up plenty of times, listening as you sobbed, knowing you were aware he was there but unable to leave you alone. And you’d never really asked him to leave, so long as he stayed quiet and didn’t mention it when you eventually let him in the room.

Still, he’d always hug you and quickly claim it was for him, not you, and you’d just give a watery laugh and roll your eyes.  

When he heard you sigh happily getting your shot, he went out into the hallway and debated waiting for you. He still had words for you, still needed a proper explanation for your mistake, because you didn’t make mistakes. Not like that, during a mission, and certainly not simply to protect him. He thought perhaps you had wanted to clear his zone just to prove a point, to show off because you’d spent the last few weeks essentially ignoring him, giving him a shoulder so cold he wondered how you didn’t turn into fucking ice.

But when he turned in time to see the Stormtrooper you’d missed pull you back, he realized you hadn’t finished clearing your zone, you had not been trying to best him. You had actually, astonishingly, fucked up.

The surprise was far outweighed by the force that rose within him when he watched you take the hit, your little body just folding from the muscle behind the punch, your cry of anguish filling the air. Protectiveness, the likes of which he never felt toward another person, surged and aided him in tackling the trooper away from you at the same time he aimed his blaster and took the shot, killing him.

And when he stood up and saw you watching him, wide-eyed and clearly flustered, he became overwhelmed. Because you suddenly looked exactly like the (y/n) Horn he’d grown up with, all the walls and pretenses and cold shoulders stripped away just for a few seconds, revealing the you he knew so well underneath. It ripped at his heart, grief and longing swirling around as he thought of how much he missed you, missed Charlie, missed his old life.

So he let the anger take over because that was easier than trying to play it all off and scold you at that moment before promising to chew you out after the mission. No, he allowed you to see his fury and when he approached you back on base and saw you waiting for him with your head held high, he knew the message had been received, all the same, the old you locked back away and ready to cooly take your verbal punishment like any other good pilot.

Fuck, he hated this. Hated working with you and having to see every day the person you had become to him, what his actions and words had reduced you to. He’d seen you outside of missions, around the base and in the caf. You were content to be alone, occasionally sitting with Temmin or a friendly mechanic named Ana who was assigned to your ship. He never saw you out at the only cantina nearby, never even saw you laugh. You were like a shell of who you’d once been until Rush Derrin seemed to pull out an unfamiliar side of you when he’d asked you out.

And though he hadn’t yet figured out how to try and heal his relationship with you, Poe had been thinking about it constantly. What to do, how to say he was sorry. How to convince you without causing you to pull away even further. So the fact that a random guy had just managed to make you laugh, smile, agree to a date, well that was more than enough to fuel his anger.

The thing was, after Charlie, it was tough, hard as shit to deal with what his life was without you or your brother. After some time, he learned how to lock it all back, avoid it as much as possible to protect himself. Because he hadn’t had any luck in figuring out where you’d gone and he was losing hope he’d be able to find you and beg for forgiveness. But then, working with you these last weeks had proven that those years apart had been easy, so fucking easy, compared to the pain and misery of being so close to you again but feeling like a different person. Feeling like you weren’t the (y/n) he remembered and wondering if she was lost forever, that he’d never be able to find his way back to her. Which meant that Poe would never breathe freely again, didn’t it?

He hadn’t breathed properly since Charlie’s funeral.

Poe wanted to punch something, but he hurried away before you could see him and instead went straight to his room, where he would spend the next hour standing under scalding hot water. It was an attempt to help him clear his mind, though once he relaxed enough it only ended up wandering right back to you, to memories he’d locked away for years, his walls crumbling useless heaps now.

-

“You know, I’m really going to miss you, Poe. Is it bad that I don’t want you to leave?”

Poe looked down at you where you lay curled into his side, the two of you lounging together on your bed, a night like a million others only this one was different, final.

It was the last night before he and Charlie shipped off to basic training, to become real pilots with the Resistance far, far away. He was beyond excited as he’d been dreaming of joining for as long as he could remember, but torn because you still had two years before you’d be joining them, and even then you’d be doing basic and kept busy with that until you could be assigned. He could only hope that he and Charlie were assigned to the base by the time you came along, but it all seemed too far away, too much time apart.

“No, I get it,” He replied, tightening his arm around your shoulders, “I’m going to miss you more than anything on this entire planet, sweetheart. I don’t...I’m not even sure how to exist without you, you know?” Truthfully, his entire life orbited around you. He wasn’t sure what it would do to him to leave.

You hummed sadly in agreement, “At least you’ll have Charlie. I have to figure out how to live without either of you,” Your voice broke, and you paused to try and prevent yourself from crying. Poe waited for you to continue, but let his tears fall freely because fuck, this hurt. “Thought I’d be ready for this, but these last few months together have just flown by and now you’re both leaving and I’m going to be alone.”

And there, there were the tears you so often refused to give in to, springing free and pulling sobs from deep within your chest. When you did cry, it only ever seemed to be for Poe. He was the only person you let take care of you, the only one allowed to see the vulnerability.

He sat up, pulling you with him and tugging you into his lap, his arms crushing you against him as you both cried. He always adored how well you fit in his arms. How perfect it felt to press his face into your neck, hold your body against his. He was going to miss this, miss you, so fucking much.

You were right; the last few months together did fly by, and he still hadn’t told you...but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, not now, not with so much time apart literally on the horizon. He’d debated the same thing for years, questioning his decisions these last few weeks because they were going to be the last together for quite some time. But you were his best friend, he didn’t want to risk anything right now by admitting...well, there was no point in thinking about it anymore.

He and Charlie were leaving, and you were going to have to live here without them for the first time in your life. They would be busy and together, you would be on your own. He wasn’t going to add another layer of baggage to your shoulders before leaving.

Of course, they would write, possibly visit once or twice but there were so many variables to that possibility there was no point in getting his hopes up that it would happen. Two years, in the grand scheme of the universe they were nothing, minimal, no time at all. But even just a night away from you had become unbearable to Poe. As much as he was ready and excited to go, he knew he was leaving half his heart behind and he was content with sitting in that and being miserable about it here with you safely tucked into his arms.

“You will never be alone, sweetheart, not really.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair, one hand absentmindedly rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Doesn’t matter how many galaxies separate us, I will always be with you, and you with me. I promise.”

You clung to him tighter then, your face pressed into his neck as a fresh wave of sobs wracked your body, and Poe joined you because saying goodbye, even for just a little while, was the fucking worst.

Poe and you stayed together all night, eventually falling asleep for a few hours before dawn brightened your room and you each awoke. Saying your goodbye’s and I love you’s until Charlie joined you, sandwiching you between him and Poe and giving you both the saddest grin.

And in those final moments where life was just the three of you, Charlie promised you’d all be together again. That you would fly together on the same Squadron before you could blink, fight until you won the war and spend the rest of your years laughing and flying and living until you were all old and grey and cranky.

And you’d each felt better because when Charlie made a promise to either of you, he never let you down.

Poe continued to stand under the running water, his anger now faded, replaced with an indescribable sorrow. His choked sobs filled the otherwise quiet space, long after the water turned cold and night settled in outside.

Taglist:

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Be My Valentine?

AO3 Link: Read here

Square Filled: Squirting

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word count: 8,770 (oops. Sorry).

Rating: Explicit 18+!

Summary: It’s Dean and Y/N’s first Valentine’s Day, and he has a romantic evening planned, with surprises which he can’t wait to share with her.

Warnings: So much fluff. Like, so much. Dean being sweet and romantic (yes, that’s a warning). And then so much smut. Swearing, Dirty talk, D/S elements, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader, Oral Sex (Female receiving), Vaginal fingering, Squirting, Gags, Brief impact play (belt), Restraints (belt), Brief spanking, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, guys), Rough sex. More fluff.

Music: Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton (Dean and Y/N street scene)

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist 

Created for @spnkinkbingo

A/N: The first time stamp*! Wooo! I’m so excited for you guys to read it, I really hope you love it, because I sure had a great time writing these two again, all loved up and ready to celebrate Valentine’s Day! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

*This is a time stamp for my series Life’s Lessons so it’ll make more sense if you’ve read that first, but I do think it can enjoyed as a sweet and smutty Valentine’s Day fic! ;)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics

Dean stood at the kitchen bench and smirked as he stared down at the date on his phone. The coffee brewed in the machine behind him, as sunlight streamed in through the little picture window. It the most important date on the calendar that all couples go through, and he was excited.

It was February 14th. Valentine’s Day. The designated day you show the person you love most how much they mean to you. This time around was going to be the most special this little holiday had ever been for him, because this time around he had a woman who was truly, undoubtedly, his.

Y/N was the woman he had been waiting for and he couldn’t wait to make tonight a great night for both of them.

As he poured himself a cup of coffee and some for her in a travel mug, Y/N walked into the kitchen, dressed in a tight, high-waisted pastel pink skirt and white shirt, with a small white with pink polka dots scarf tied into a bow under the collar of the shirt. Her hair was in a high ponytail and she had her red glasses on. Dean felt his body heat up, knowing how much he enjoyed her fulfilling his teacher fantasy, so much so that whenever she got dressed for work, he always needed to calm himself down.

Y/N smiled at him as she walked over, kissing him softly as he slid a plate across the bench, some toast and a little bacon which he had already made, ready for her.

“Thank you,” she said, kissing him again before digging into her breakfast.

“No problem.” He smiled as he leaned against the bench, facing her. He continued to drink his coffee as she ate, both of them in content silence.

“I’ve got a half day today,” he informed her. “Ready to take you out tonight and tomorrow off, too.”

She smiled, unable to hide how excited she was for their night out. He was being incredibly secretive, and she was dying to know.

She ate quickly, washing up her plate once she was done. As she walked away from the sink, she laughed as Dean took her hand in his, pulling her against him. Whenever they had a few spare moments in the morning, this is how they spent it.

“So… what are you planning?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck as she looked up at him.

He smirked, shaking his head as his hands rested on her hips. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out later.”

She frowned, a small pout forming on her lips. “There’s no such thing as secrets on Valentine’s Day.”

She knew it wasn’t true, but she just wanted him to tell her what he was planning so that she could coordinate her lingerie accordingly.

“Babe, don’t start making crap up just because you’re curious.” He called her out, throwing his head with a boisterous laugh as she stared at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open in shock.

“Well, then I guess it’s just going to be you and your hand tonight,” she threw back, feigning upset.

“Hey,” he warned, staring down at her as he pulled her closer. “Do that and you won’t find out what I have planned.”

“Fine,” she sighed, as she rolled her eyes. Looking at him, the frown returned but with a playful glint in her eyes. “You’re really annoying, sometimes.”

“I know,” he shrugged with a grin. “But you love me.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, unable to pretend anymore. “Fortunately.”

“Very fortunately,” he said, leaning down to kiss her softly. He bent down further, kissing her neck which made her groan, sadly.

“I’m going to be late for work,” she said, pushing him away slightly.

He moved back down, attaching his mouth to her neck again. “I was about to give it to ya good and proper, sweetheart,” he mumbled against her skin, between kisses.

She laughed as she lightly pushed him again, kissing him softly on his pout. “You can do that tonight. A good, proper,” she kissed him again, “hard, rough,” another kiss, “fucking of a lifetime.”

He groaned, closing his eyes as he thought about what he had planned for them. She really had no idea what was going on and he was excited for her to find out.

“You’re so on, baby,” he muttered, before pulling her into a searing kiss.

She reluctantly pulled away from him, frowning. “I better go.”

“See you tonight,” he said, smirking at her.

“I can’t wait,” she smiled, leaning in and kissing him again.

Dean watched on as Y/N picked her bag and slung it over her shoulder, grabbing her keys in her hand. She slipped on her nude heels as she picked up her fawn coat, turning and blowing him a kiss before walking out the door. He smirked as he thought about what she just said, and how he could incorporate it into the night he had planned. After she had made his birthday one that he would never forget, he didn’t want to wait for so long until hers to do the same.

Luckily, the most romantic day of the year was upon them, and it was the perfect opportunity to make it a memorable night for both of them. He had never really believed in a day to celebrate love, considering he never had much luck with it in the past, but now he was thankful to whoever decided to profit from February 14th and made it a big deal.

Dean got ready for the day and headed to work. He was happy knowing there wasn’t much to do that day with his half day of work. He was relieved when Y/N had managed to take leave for the next day just like him, knowing that his plan would succeed. After the big restoration job that he had told her about months ago had been paid them in full by the customer, they were doing amazingly well at the garage. It had been a lot of money and there was more than enough to go around. Dean was able to pull out all the stops for the night. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face at work, getting questioning looks from Benny, Garth, some of the other guys and even Ellen. The guys teased him all day, but he paid no attention to it. If they had a woman as wonderful as he did, they’d have a huge smile on their face all day too.

Y/N smoothed down her maroon, velvet, off-shoulder, knee-length dress as she looked at herself in the mirror. She had contemplated the style for a long time in the store a few days ago, wondering if she should go for a brighter red or shorter, but this caught her eye straight away. She just hoped Dean would like it. She also hoped he would like her strapless bra and panties set, of the same dark colour. She kept her eye make-up simple but went with a slightly dark red shade for the lipstick, and gave her hair a slight wave, sweeping it over one shoulder. She gave herself a nod as she smiled at her complete look in the mirror.

Y/N heard the front door opening, signalling that Dean had arrived, even if he was a little early. With one last check in the mirror, she picked up the gift she had for him from her bed and walked out of her room, her black heels clacking on the wooden floors. As soon as she saw him, her heart skipped a beat. He wore black dress pants and loafers, with a maroon sweater. He looked so unbelievably gorgeous that she just had to stand there for a few more seconds to appreciate him. He had his hands behind his back, and she knew it had to be something for Valentine’s Day.

“Who clued you in on maroon?” she laughed as she approached him.

“I… may have snuck a peek in the bag when you brought it home,” he replied, smirking as he took her in. She looked incredible and he was going to have a hard time keeping things PG for the first part of the night. “You look amazing.”

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” she whispered against his lips as she leaned in and kissed him, softly. “This is very couple-y of us, though” she joked.

He shrugged, laughing. “It’s Valentine’s, baby.”

With that, he brought his arms forward, showing her the bouquet of lilies (she wasn’t a fan of roses; too overrated) and the heart-shaped box, no doubt filled with little chocolates.

“Be my Valentine?” he asked, chuckling.

She shook her head, laughing at his goofiness. “Of course.” She took the items from him and handing him his.

He smiled as he took it, quickly unwrapping the red wrapping around the small box. Opening it, he lifted the coffee mug out, smirking at the design. It was him and Y/N in animated form, with her leaning in to kiss his cheek, a little heart above their heads.

“That’s cute,” he said, smiling at her.

“It’s not too cheesy, is it? We said things that didn’t cost much, and this was relatively inexpensive. All I had to do was give the artist a picture of us, and she did the rest,” she explained, wondering if he really did like it and wasn’t just making her feel better.

“No, it’s not. I love it, really,” he reassured her.

She leaned in, happily letting him cup her face in his hands and pull her into a steamy kiss. It was over quicker than she would’ve liked, but as she looked into his eyes, she noticed a spark that wasn’t there before.

“Okay… put those in water and then pack a bag. Just essentials, clothes for tomorrow, that’s it” he instructed, rubbing his hands together.

She frowned, blinking a few times as she made sure she heard him right. “What?”

“Part of the surprise,” he said, not giving her anything else as he gestured to his watch.

“Okay…” she huffed as she snapped out of her trance, her mind reeling as she tried to figure out where he was taking her.

After putting the lilies in a small vase with water, Y/N went into her room and quickly packed a bag. Just her skincare and clothes for the next day were all she needed. She really had no idea what Dean was doing or where he was taking her, but she was now even more restless to find out.

Walking back into the living area, she saw Dean waiting by the door. He smirked as he reached for her bag, dragging it out for her as she picked up her purse and put on her black coat, locking the door behind her. Dean put her case in the trunk and then proceeded to open the passenger door for her. She snuck a quick kiss before she sat, putting her purse in her lap. Dean was on the driver’s side in a flash, quickly taking his seat and starting the engine.

“So… still no hint?” she asked, smiling through her impatience.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’.

“Fine,” she sighed, sitting back in her seat properly as Dean pulled away from the curb.

She decided to stop asking. He always said he wasn’t great with romantic gestures but that he was trying with her, and she really appreciated that about him. He was expanding his comfort zone even though he didn’t have to. He wanted to.

They asked each other about their days as Dean drove towards the city. The anticipation for their night was overwhelming, and he was glad that Y/N kept talking. No doubt distracting herself just as much as him. As they reached their destination, he saw her eyes light up as he parked the car outside the restaurant, their first stop.

“Dean!” she exclaimed as she turned to him. “This is already too much! More than what we agreed on!”

He smirked, knowing that the fancy Italian place was one that she had wanting to go to for a while. It was definitely pricey, but his latest customer was making tonight possible. He really had to find a way to thank the guy.

“Not tonight it’s not.” He winked at her as he opened his door and got out of the car, a squeak coming from the hinges as he shut it.

He walked around the front and to her side, opening the door for her. Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes as she stood up and looked at the building, suddenly launching herself into Dean.

“I’ve told you before; I don’t need all of this to make me happy. You know that, right?” she asked, frowning slightly. She was worried that he may feel like he needed to do this just to make things special.

“Yeah, I do, sweetheart,” he replied, as he pulled back slightly from their embrace to look at her. “But if I can afford it, then why the hell not?”

“And you’re sure you can?” she asked, a frown still etched on her face.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes! Y/N, we wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t. We did fucking great because of that big restoration job. Trust me.”

He had to wonder how she would react for the next part of the surprise if she was already shocked by the restaurant. Hopefully once he reassured her it was fine, and that he wasn’t doing this when he couldn’t afford it, she would relax.

“Okay.” A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth before it grew.

Dean smiled wide as he saw her face light up. He held out his hand for her, ready to start their night. “Let’s go.”

Y/N took Dean’s hand instantly, linking their fingers together as they walked to the entrance of the Italian restaurant. As they made their way in and Dean gave them his name, they were immediately led to a table in the back, away from most of the chatter of patrons. Dean helped Y/N with her coat, draping it over the back of her chair, doing the same with his. She smiled as she sat down across from him, causing him to smile back. His eyes wandered up and down as he looked at her, taking in her beauty. She always looked stunning, no matter whether it was casual or a bit dressier.

A waiter brought over the wine list, which Dean discreetly handed over to Y/N considering that wasn’t something he knew anything about. She gave him a wink as she looked over several pages before deciding. Dinner was far more delicious than either of them were expecting, so between the great wine and even better food, Dean was very happy he brought her here.

Once dinner was cleared, and the chocolate cake they ordered to share for dessert arrived (after he lamented that there was no pie), Dean let her dig in first as he folded his arms on the table, watching her. He smirked as she stabbed a piece with the fork and held it out to him. He winked at her as he took the bite, seeing her visibly shiver. He chuckled to himself as he chewed, watching her drop her head and focus on the cake.

“Stop,” she laughed, trying to avoid his intense gaze. He was trying to kill her; she knew he was.

“Can’t,” he said, joining in with her laughter.

They both continued to devour the cake until there wasn’t even a crumb left, both sitting back as the waiter cleared the plate and glasses.

After paying, Dean took Y/N’s hand in his and left the restaurant. Their walk down the street turned into a relaxed stroll, enjoying the glow of the city lights despite the cold weather of February. As they continued towards the car, a group of street musicians was playing, also not bothered by the chill in the air. As they continued to play, Dean slowly spun Y/N around, causing her to laugh in surprise at his sudden gesture. His hands slipped down to her waist and pulled her close as he began to sway them to the music, looking into her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, refusing to break her gaze away from him. The slow melody of the familiar song caused them to get lost in each other, blocking out the noise of the street and cars rushing by.

In his arms, Y/N felt safe. She felt as if nothing bad could happen to her, ever again. She felt like Dean would always be there to hold her up and never let her fall. He would never hurt her, knowing her past and making sure she never felt that way ever again. She thanked all forms of a higher power every day for bringing this man into her life.

In her arms, Dean had never felt more loved. With her, he had everything he ever wanted in life. Love, comfort, passion – feeling wanted. Someone who would never make him feel any less than he was. He knew how lucky he was to have her.

Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, the kiss becoming deeper and more passionate as he pulled her a little closer. Y/N’s hands combed into his hair at the back of his head as she kissed him. After a moment, Dean pulled away from her caress, his breathing slightly heavier.

“Come on,” he grinned, moving away from her and taking her hand in his again, leading her down the street.

As he drove, Dean’s mind kept swimming with possibilities of what would happen next. He looked over at Y/N, smiling at her as she gazed up at the city lights from the window, completely oblivious to the thoughts that were going through his head. He watched as she frowned, the destination now right in front of them. She looked up at the sign, gasping loudly. He had brought them to one of the best hotels in the city and her heart began to beat just a little faster.

“Oh my god!” she yelled, looking at him as he pulled into the valet parking of the hotel. He got out and walked over to the trunk, taking out her small suitcase and pulling it for her, as she got out of the car.

Y/N stood in shock as she watched him warn the valet about the car, and then hand over the keys. As the Impala rolled away towards the main parking, she looked at Dean and shook her head as she walked over to him.

“Dean, this is-” she started but he stopped her as he took her hand and tugged on it, softly.

“Save it for upstairs, sweetheart.” He smirked as he brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

They walked towards the entrance, a doorman opening the glass door for them.

“Where’s your stuff?” she asked, as she suddenly noticed he lacked an over-night bag.

“I checked us in during the day after work, before I picked you up,” he replied, as he walked them through the huge lobby and towards the elevators.

Y/N marvelled as she looked around. Her stomach flipped as she couldn’t believe she was in such a swanky place.

The elevator arrived; announced by a soft ding as the doors opened. Dean stepped in with Y/N by his side, pressing the button for their floor. Y/N looked over at him, unable to contain her smile as the elevator moved up the floors. Dean leaned over, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her, passionately. She hummed as she grabbed the lapels of his black coat, pulling him closer. They broke away from each other, however, when the elevator stopped, letting in another couple. They were slightly older and both of them grimaced as they witnessed the young couple with their lips locked. It was the clichéd scene you would see in every rom-com or steamy romance, but neither of them cared.

Once they reached their floor, they left the elevator and walked down the hallway. Dean walked a little ahead of Y/N, wheeling her suitcase behind him. He reached their room, taking out the room card and sliding it in, the beep and green light signalling he could open the door. Y/N walked in, as he held it for her and quickly slipped the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign onto the handle, closing the door behind her.

If Y/N was smiling before, then she was practically beaming as she walked further into the room. The big window overlooked the gardens outside, and the room held a chic armchair with Dean’s brown leather duffle sitting on it, a round ottoman in front the armchair, a large bed with crisp white sheets, big pillows and royal blue cushions. Rose petals were scattered over the sheets with a tray that held little chocolates, an ice bucket with a bottle of Champagne and two champagne glasses on it, at the centre of the bed.

Y/N’s felt Dean’s arms wrap around her waist as he stood behind her, pulling her close to his body. She sighed contently, leaning her head against his chest.

“I know you’re not a fan of roses, but this is all they had,” he informed her, softly in her ear.

She shook her head, turning around to face him and instantly wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s perfect. I love it so much.”

“Yeah?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

“Yes,” she sighed, smiling up at him. “I love you so much, Dean Winchester. Thank you for tonight. Thank you for loving me.”

“Well, you make it real easy, sweetheart,” he said, smirking.

“You make it easy to love you, too,” she whispered against his lips, and kissed him once, twice.

“So… champagne?” he asked, grinning.

“Yes,” she replied, without missing a beat.

Dean moved away from her, shrugging off his coat and draping it over the armchair. Y/N took off her coat and hung it up in the closet, taking a chance to look around the room. She wandered into the bathroom, biting her lip to keep from grinning as she saw the bathtub filled with water and rose petals along the surface. She fully intended to make use of it later. The bathroom also had another ice bucket and champagne with glasses kept near the tub, along with some chocolate covered strawberries, making her shiver at the possibilities of what could happen.

Y/N walked back out to the main part of the room, watching Dean open the wrapping from the top of the champagne bottle. He held the bottle carefully as he twisted the cork, letting out a “son of a bitch!” when it popped loudly. He poured some in each glass and handed her one as he took the other, his other hand slipping into hers. They looked into each other’s eyes as they clinked their glasses together.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he said, smirking.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dean,” she sighed, her eyes sparkling with love as she looked at him.

As they both took a few sips, it was clear that no matter how great the champagne was, that wasn’t where their focus was at that moment. As Dean looked at Y/N, he knew he couldn’t waste another minute not touching her. In one big gulp, he downed the champagne and placed the glass on the tray. He moved it off the bed and placed it on the ottoman, turning back to her to see she had emptied her glass as well. She walked over to the ottoman slowly, the swing in her hips seductive and teasing him. As she bent down to put the glass on the tray, the curve of her ass looked glorious in her tight dress, leaving him powerless to resist.

Dean walked up behind Y/N, his hands slowly moving over the curve, feeling the soft velvet of her dress. He moved them up to her hips, swiftly pulling them back to meet his. Y/N bit her lip as she pressed her back to his chest, feeling his cock begin to stir through the fabric of his pants.

“You have no idea what I’m gonna do to you,” he whispered in her ear and placed a small kiss behind it.

She shivered as she felt his hands move up her body, lightly grazing over her breasts before moving back down to her hips. She took his hands and moved them up again, cupping her breasts and causing a soft moan to leave her lips. She smiled mischievously as she began to grind her hips back into his, feeling him become more aroused. Dean had instant flashes back to their first date, the night she did exactly the same thing on her front porch.

He suddenly flicked her hands off his and moved them down, grasping her hips and halting them. “You think you can do that again, sweetheart… you’re wrong.”

“Dean,” she whined, her frustration getting the better of her. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling herself getting wet between her legs already.

“Tonight, is all about you,” he told her as his hands moved to the back of her dress. He grasped the zip, pulling it down at a teasing pace. “Tonight… you’re all mine.”

A whimper left her lips as the dress opened in the back, and Dean’s pace suddenly changed. He roughly pulled at the dress, shoving it down her body and letting it fall to pool around her feet.

Turning them around, Dean faced Y/N towards the large mirror on the wall. He admired her dark red, lacy push-up bra, matching lace panties and black thigh-high stockings, as his hands roamed her soft skin. Their eyes met in the mirror, causing Dean to smirk at her and give her a wink. His right hand travelled down her body and over the lace of her panties, his fingers lightly teasing over her skin and the seam of the fabric. Her breath hitched in her throat as her left hand moved forward, trying to reach for his. She gasped as he roughly grabbed it and held it down by her hip, wrapping his fingers around her wrist to keep from moving.

“Only I get to touch you, Y/N,” he said, not breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. His hand moved down between her legs, his fingers rubbing along the lace and feeling her wetness through the material. She moaned, pressing her lips together to keep herself quiet.

“Already so wet for me,” he groaned, continuing to move his fingers in a moderate pace. “But… I want you practically dripping.”

Y/N moaned wantonly as Dean removed his hand and made quick work of taking off her panties, bending down behind her as they slid down to her feet. He helped her step out of each heel and her panties, smirking as an idea came to him once the fabric was in his hand. He quickly slipped them into his pants pocket as he took her hand and guided her towards the bed. Staring into his eyes, she saw them darken even more as he lifted his hands to her shoulders and pushed her, a squeal leaving her as her back hit the bed. The scattered rose petals bounced around, breaking the even pattern, as she moved up slightly on the bed and pushed herself up on her elbows to look at him.

Y/N smiled as she bit her lip, her eyes never leaving him as he lifted up his sweater and pulled his arms through, throwing it on the floor. He did the same with the white t-shirt he wore underneath as he moved closer to the bed. She reached over and hooked her fingers into the top of his pants, desperate to feel him against her. Before she could start working on the belt, he grabbed her hand with a firm grip.

“What did I say about touching, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice rough and authoritative.

A shiver ran down her spine as she looked up at him, unable to speak. His eyes were dark, and his face was unreadable, a commanding air around him. He was dominating in bed but never quite like this, and that had her excited to see what he would do.

Dean’s jaw clenched as he looked down at her, unbuckling his belt and sliding it through the loops. He gathered it in his hand and waved it at her. “One more time and I’ll have to use this.”

She nodded, still too stunned at his demeanour to speak. She breathed heavily as the anticipation got to her, wondering what his next move would be.

Dean placed the belt on the bed, close enough to reach for it when he needed. He quickly rid himself of his shoes and the rest of his clothes, pulling down his pants along with his boxers, dropping them on the edge of the bed. His cock twitched, hard and leaking pre-cum which she desperately wanted a taste of. He knelt on the bed, swiftly picking up both of Y/N’s legs and holding them up. He made quick work of taking off her stockings, rolling them down her legs and pulling them off, before leaning down and kissing her, roughly. She moaned into his mouth as she fisted the sheets in her hands, knowing she couldn’t touch him or herself. Dean continued to roughly kiss her as he reached under her and unclasped her bra, pulling it away from her body and flinging it across the room without looking.

Dean made a rough path of kisses down Y/N’s jaw and neck, reaching her breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the nub and pinched the other between his fingers. She moaned, throwing her head back, incredibly desperate to lift her hands and place them on his head to bring him closer. He continued his path down her body, finally reaching between her legs. She looked down to see him wink at her, his tongue slowly flicking out as it grazed her sex.

“Dean” she whimpered as she tried to move closer to his mouth.

Before she could say anything else, his head dipped down, his mouth covering her folds completely. His hands grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders roughly, causing a shocked huff to leave her lips.

“Oh my god,” she gasped loudly, her fingers clenching the sheets. “D-Dean, yes.”

His tongue moved over her clit in tight circles as his fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs, pulling her even closer. He moved his tongue up and down her folds, her juices coating his mouth as he moaned at the taste of her. She choked out a whimper at the vibration that ran through her as she looked down at him, their eyes meeting.

Pulling away slightly, he looked at her as he sucked at her clit. “Taste so fucking good, sweetheart.”

“Dean, please,” she begged, looking into his eyes. “Please, more.”

“Patience, Y/N,” he playfully scolded, smirking at her.

He continued to lap at her folds, the sounds of his moans and her wetness getting to her. She needed to touch him, but if she did, he’d restrain her. She wanted nothing more than to risk it and tug on his hair like she loved doing, but she couldn’t. He smirked against her as he continued his ministrations, lifting his right hand and inserting a finger into her wet canal.

“Shit, yes” she cried loudly, unable to stay quiet despite being in a hotel room.

“You like that, gorgeous?” he asked as he pulled away briefly, inserting another finger. He thrusted them in and out, his pace quick as she became wetter.

“Yes,” she gasped, nodding frantically. “Yes, I-I love it.”

He gave her a cocky chuckle as he took her swollen nub in his mouth again, his eyes never leaving her. He continued to thrust his fingers inside of her, his tongue licking at the bundle of nerves. He watched as her hands left the sheets and cupped over her mouth, her moans muffled under them.

Dean kissed and sucked at her clit, his fingers sliding in and out of her as he moved them along her walls quickly. Y/N’s hands barely covered her mouth, her moans loud as she couldn’t control herself anymore. He reached for his pants and quickly took her panties out of the pocket, knowing that if she got louder, she would need them.

“Open up, sweetheart,” he said as he placed the lace near her lips.

Y/N opened her mouth and let him slowly work the material in.

“Good girl,” he groaned as he looked down at her. His cock throbbed at the sight of her mouth stuffed with her dark red panties. He continued to work his fingers into her, picking up the pace. Her moans came out stifled around the fabric in her mouth, as she urgently grabbed at the sheets again.

Dean worked his fingers into Y/N, his pace getting quicker as they began to hit her g-spot with precision. He lifted her leg onto his shoulder as he sat up on his knees, his fingers never slowing. Y/N got louder despite her panties acting as a gag, her eyes shut tightly as she let out a string of muffled moans. He could feel her getting wetter with every passing second.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this, sweetheart. All spread out for me, desperate to cum,” he grunted as he worked his fingers at a faster speed. “You wanna cum, don’t you?”

She nodded wildly, too scared to open her eyes and look at him. She could feel something building inside of her, the coil in her stomach tighter than it ever had been, as if it was holding something at bay. She could hear how wet she was as he worked the digits inside her at a frantic speed, the squelching noises louder than her moans.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

She cried out around the fabric in her mouth, the only way she could communicate at that point. Hearing him call her that always drove her crazy. He felt his fingers getting wetter, knowing she was closer than ever.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned; his fingers moving so quickly he could barely see them. “Fuck, cum for me, sweetheart. Fucking soak my fingers.”

Y/N threw her head back, her neck straining as she let out a stifled scream of his name around the material of her panties. One of her hands left the sheets as it latched onto his arm around her leg, needing to hold on. The damn within her broke, Dean pulling his fingers out as jets of liquid spurted out of her, drenching his hand. The vision behind her closed lids turned white, as a wave of the purest release she had ever felt washed over her. Her body shook as he held her, making sure she didn’t hurt herself. Her muffled scream turned into whimpers as she continued to come down from her high. She had never felt this way before as she continued to shake, unable to stop the waves of pleasure coursing through her.

Dean bit his lip, watching as Y/N slowly began to come down from the peak he took her to. That was a surprise, even for him. He didn’t know she was capable of that, but he was a little proud that he was the one to make it happen. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. She rolled her head to the side, looking up at him as her chest heaved, her breathing erratic. He leaned forward, taking her panties out of her mouth, a harsh sigh leaving her.

“Oh my god,” she exhaled, still trying to catch her breath.

“It’s actually Dean,” he joked, a wide grin on his face.

She lazily lifted her hand and tried to hit him but couldn’t even manage that.

“You…” she trailed off, shaking her head as she still couldn’t believe what just happened. “You made me squirt.”

“Sure did.” He nodded as he looked down at her, the smirk not leaving his face. “That was awesome,” he stated.

“It was.” She hummed as she smiled up him. That was first time anyone had managed to do that, and she was happy that her first experience of that was with someone who loved her so much. Someone who wanted to bring her pleasure before himself. His pleasure came from hers. She had never been with someone who cared like that.

“Shit,” she sighed, closing her eyes. Her whole body felt like it was buzzing. “I’ve never… done that before.”

“That was so fucking hot, sweetheart,” he declared, smirking as he looked down at his lower body and his hand, both wet from her unexpected release.

She stared up at him as she bit her lip. The fact that he found it hot had aroused her even more. The fact that he was so completely turned on by her and her body, gave her a confidence in herself that she never had before.

“You’re definitely trying that again, sometime soon,” she laughed, winking at him.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” he stated, putting her leg down.

“Really?” she asked, amused by his eagerness.

“Yep,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. “Oh and Y/N…” he trailed off, gesturing to his arm that had been wrapped around her leg.

Y/N looked down and cursed inwardly, seeing her hand wrapped around his wrist. However, a small smile spread across her lips as she looked at him, trying to act innocent. “Oops…”

Before any more words could leave Y/N’s lips, Dean tugged on her hand and flipped her over, pushing her down on her stomach. He groaned as he looked at her ass, running his hand along her skin, grasping it in his hand. He picked up the belt, folded it and held it tight in his hands. Lifting it, he twisted his wrist and flicked the loop lightly across her right cheek, gaging her reaction. She moaned as her head dropped forward onto the bed, her hips wriggling, taunting him. He couldn’t see her face, but he was certain she was wearing the little mischievous smile of hers that he loved so much.

“Harder,” she told him, her voice firm. No hesitation.

That was the only confirmation Dean needed. He lifted his hand again, bringing the belt down on the same area, slightly harder than before.

“Fuck,” she moaned, humming at the slight sting.

Dean leaned down, placing a kiss and small nip on the cheek. “Love this ass.”

Dean held Y/N’s hands together and wrapped the belt around her wrists, making sure it was tight enough so that she couldn’t get out of the binds. He buckled it, tugging on it a couple of times to test it. She whimpered softly as she laid the side of her face on the bed, excitement coursing through her. She felt him grasp her hips and pull her up onto her knees, her bound hands on her back. That feeling of thrill rose within her as she sensed him move behind her.

Dean stroked his cock as he lined himself up to her entrance, Y/N’s hips levelled with his. He entered her swiftly, a strangled moan leaving his lips as he felt how wet she was, his cock easily sliding all the way into her. A choked cry left her as she tried to move her hips back, but he grabbed them in his hands to stop her from moving. He slid out and back in, then quickly began to thrust in and out of her at a fast pace.

“So fucking tight and wet, sweetheart,” he groaned as one hand came up to hold onto her bound hands. “So perfect… like you were made for me.”

With each thrust, she moaned louder and louder. Dean wondered whether he should gag her again, but quickly thought against it. Everyone else in the hotel be damned. He needed to hear his girl.

“How does that feel, Y/N?” he asked, as his hand on her hip grabbed her flesh tight, his thrusts relentless.

“So fucking good,” she moaned loudly, her mind delirious with pleasure. “Your big cock feels so good inside me, Dean.”

“I’m the only one who can make you feel this.” He let out a grunt, feeling her walls clench around his cock with each thrust. “Tell me.”

“Oh fuck” she gasped, unable to think clearly. “Y-You-”

Suddenly, a hard, resounding spank landed on her right cheek causing her to jerk forward as she yelped in surprise.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he growled, his grip tightening on her bound hands.

She huffed a small laugh, completely overwhelmed by what she was feeling. He was hitting that sweet spot inside her so perfectly with every thrust. His words had her spiralling by the second, and his grip on her, both mentally and physically, had left her completely at his mercy. It was an experience unlike any other; one that she had expressed she wanted just that morning, but she had no idea the delivery would exceed her expectations.

“You’re the only one who can make me feel like this,” she moaned, loud and shameless. If someone else in the hotel was getting railed as thoroughly as she was, they’d be shameless about it too. “The only one who can make me this good… so fucking good, so full.”

She struggled against the belt around her hands, the leather digging into her skin in a delicious sting. Her legs felt weak and limp under her, quivering as she could feel herself quickly losing resolve.

“Fuck, Y/N.” His undulating hips picked up speed, as he grasped hers tightly.

Her walls continued to clench around him, signalling she was close. The only other sounds that could be heard apart from their moans and groans were the smacking of skin as their hips met, and wet, squelching sounds of her sex as he continued to pound into her.

“De… fuck, I-I I’m close,” she cried out, lifting her head to try and look back at him. The same feeling that she had felt before had returned, as if she was holding something back. “I-I think-” she shook her head, unable to speak.

Dean’s hips started to falter, his release fast approaching. “Cum with me, Y/N.”

“I-I-I’m,” she stuttered. She felt lightheaded, overstimulated and overcome by the pleasure coursing through her.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he reassured her, his left hand leaving her hip and moving down between her legs. He rubbed her clit in tight circles, bringing her closer to her release. “Let go for me, sweetheart… soak my cock like you soaked my fingers.”

“Oh god… Fuck! Dean!” she screamed.

All concern for the people in the other rooms went out the window as they both reached the peak of ecstasy.

Y/N’s whole body convulsed as Dean let out a roaring moan, quickly pulling out as her release gushed out of her, drenching his cock as his cum spurted over her folds. Her legs gave out as she fell forward and flattened out on the bed as she tried to catch her breath. His chest heaved as he leaned forward, carefully unbuckling the belt around her hands, releasing her from the restraint. Her arms moved up the bed weakly, one hand cupping over her eyes as she began to chuckle. He looked down at her with a quirked eyebrow, confused as to why she was laughing.

“Y/N?” he called her name, getting no response.

She descended into a fit of laughter, slowly turning onto her back as she cupped both hands over her eyes.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asked, his mouth lifting up slightly into a smirk. He was amused by her reaction.

“That was… that was amazing,” she said through laughs. “I just… I can’t believe you did that. Not just once but twice!”

Y/N continued to laugh, causing Dean to join in as he leaned down and gave her a kiss. She lifted her shaky hands and cupped his face, kissing him deeply and moaning at the taste of herself that still lingered on his tongue. Pulling away, his legs almost faltered as he got up from the bed, but he held himself steady as he moved towards the bathroom. He wet a washcloth and then walked back out to the bed. He cleaned between her legs, the warm cloth ridding her of his release and her own. As he did, he was relieved to see they hadn’t ruined the sheets from both of their orgasms, his lower body taking the impact of hers. He cleaned himself off and got up again, discarding the cloth under the sink of the bathroom.

As he walked back out, he spotted the ice bucket and quickly swiped a cube out before he laid down next to her, both of them on their sides. Picking up her right hand, he smoothed the ice over the angry, red lines across her wrist. She hissed slightly at the chill on the heat of her skin but sighed as it cooled the sting. He looked at her as he did, smiling softly when her gaze lifted up to meet his.

“I… that wasn’t too much, was it?” he asked, his voice low and calming, but slightly nervous. He hoped that he hadn’t gone overboard.

She smiled, shaking her head. “No. It was perfect.”

She leaned forward, kissing him deeply. She sighed into the kiss, feeling more content than she ever had in her life. The feeling of being safe with him had been there throughout, and she loved him even more for being able to make her feel that way as he dominated her.

“You sure?” He needed to be certain. “I just gotta-”

She cut him off with another kiss, before pulling back to look at him. “Yes, I’m absolutely sure. It was everything I wanted. A good, proper, hard, rough… fucking of a lifetime.”

He smirked, satisfied with her sincere answer and leaned forward, kissing her once, twice which led to them giving each other small kisses on every bit of skin they got reach. Dean gave her other wrist the same attention, before the cube could melt into his hand.

“Now I can’t wait for you to fulfill another fantasy” she smiled, a naughty glint in her eyes.

“Yeah?” he grinned, wagging his eyebrows at her. “What is it?”

She hummed as she moved forward, pressing her body into his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe I want a certain mechanic to tell me there are other ways of payment when I can’t afford for him to fix my car.”

He groaned as his eyes shut tightly, feeling his cock begin to stir again. “Fuck, sweetheart. I can’t wait for that either.”

He leaned in, kissing her passionately. His hands smoothed down her back and softly soothed the sting on her ass from the brief belt treatment and spanking she got.

“Bath?” he asked, tenderly as he pulled away from her lips and nuzzled his nose against hers.

She nodded with a small smile on her lips, feeling the mattress dip as he got up first.

Dean offered his hand to Y/N which she took instantly, allowing him to lift her up from the bed. Her legs shook as she stood, still weak from the amazing sex they just had. Suddenly, he leaned down and placed his arm under her legs, the other around her and lifted her up, a little laugh leaving her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. As he walked past the ottoman, she reached down and grabbed the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and the glasses, placing them in her lap and holding the bottle so it didn’t fall. They looked into each other’s eyes as he carried her into the bathroom and over to the tub.

Y/N slowly dipped her toe in, sighing in relief when it wasn’t searing hot. She held the bottle and glasses as Dean slowly placed her in the water, the petals dispersing once she was in. She took out the other bottle of champagne from the ice bucket in the bathroom and put the open one in, after she poured a generous amount into each glass. Leaning forward, she smiled as he got into the tub and rested against it, allowing her to lay back against his chest. Clinking their glasses together, she took a sip and sighed as she made herself comfortable against him.

“I’m half expecting someone to come knocking on the door about the noise,” she told him, laughing.

He shook his head, chuckling. “Nah, no one’s coming up here to warn us on Valentine’s Day.”

“I sure hope so,” she said, taking another sip of champagne.

“I did put the “Do Not Disturb” on the door on the way in, though,” he grinned, leaning down and kissing her cheek. “Just in case.”

“Always prepared,” she joked, turning her head up to look at him.

“You know it, baby.” He smirked as he leaned down, kissing her softly.

“Thank you so much for tonight,” she whispered against his lips as he pulled away from the kiss. “It was perfect.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” he whispered back, pressing his lips to hers again. The kiss deepened, causing a small moan to leave her as she reached up and ran her hand through his hair at the back of head.

She pulled back, slightly out of the breath as she bit her lip, looking into his eyes. “I don’t think I can manage it tonight, but you can expect me to ride you into oblivion tomorrow as a thank you.”

His eyes widened as he nearly choked from the shock of her statement. He shook his head as he looked at her, wondering once again how she could be so innocent one minute and turn into a vixen the next.

“You better not threaten me with a good time and then not deliver, Y/N,” he warned her, a small smirk playing at his lips.

She shook her head, her gaze flicking between his and his lips. “It’s a promise which I absolutely intend to keep.”

“Shit,” he hissed, putting his glass on the ledge behind him. “Thank fuck I got a late check-out.”

He took hers and did the same and then moved his hands under the water, turning her around so that she was facing him and straddling his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts pressed into his chest as she leaned in and kissed him, passionately. She pulled away after a few moments, looking into his eyes.

Y/N reached over to pick up a chocolate covered strawberry on the tray behind Dean and held it to his lips. Smiling at him as his plump lips closed around the fruit and bit into it, the juice ran down his chin as he moved his head back, trying to get the bite completely into his mouth. The fire that burned for him within her, that never extinguished, flickered at the sight of his beautiful, sinful mouth slightly stained by the sweet. She leaned in, kissing and licking the remnants of strawberry and chocolate from his lips. As he looked at her, he felt that feeling of being the luckiest guy on Earth wash over him again.

“I love you,” she whispered, a big smile spreading across her face.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, his smile as big as hers as he pulled her back into their impassioned embrace.

They stayed that way until the water turned cold, and Dean carried Y/N back to the bed. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, their slumber peaceful as they both knew they were in the arms of the person who loved them unconditionally.

The next morning, Y/N kept her promise. Once they came up for air, they enjoyed a wonderful breakfast at the hotel before they finally made their way back home.

The rest of their day continued the way it began, locked in each other’s loving arms…

With promises made that they absolutely intended to keep.

-x-

Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05​ @kyjey​ @halesandy​ @440mxs-wife​ @stoneyggirl​ @deanswaywardgirl​ @redbarn1995​ @marianita195​ @babypink224221​ @deans-baby-momma​ @parinarain​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mandalou29​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @supraveng​ @supernatural-love14​ @vicmc624​ @prettyboyswow​ @lunarmoon8​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 14: Loss

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Loss Rated: T (Presumed Major Character Death) Based on the trailer for the upcoming Gotham Knights game: https://youtu.be/IhVf_3TeTQE (TW: flashing images towards the end of the trailer)

Jason is walking home on a rainy night in Gotham after a long day working with Roy.  He was hoping to quickly get back home to his girlfriend and relax for a few days. He felt his phone vibrate, he took it out from his pocket to see it was a call from Batman. The words “Incoming Transmission: Code Black” were written boldly across his screen. Jason had a bad feeling about this. He walked into a nearby alley and looked around to see if he was truly alone before taking this urgent call.

He was unsure whether to pick up the call or not, his relationship with Bruce had been strained ever since he was killed by the Joker and came back as the Red Hood. Even if they had reconciled, they still argued and disagreed with one another.  This was probably him asking if he was willing to go undercover again like he had done with Black Mask.  He continued to stare at the phone, thinking of all the possible reasons that Bruce may have wanted to call him. “What is Code Black?” He thought to himself as he answered the call.

His phone sparks to life with the image of Bruce, Jason immediately knew something was wrong. Bruce never showed his face in any Bat related communication. “If you’re watching this, I’m dead.” Jason could not believe what he was seeing, he barely registers the rest of the message. Thinking back to how he first met Batman, trying to steal the wheels off the Batmobile. To him, Batman was invincible, invisible and unstoppable. After all his training as Robin and even after his return as Red Hood, a small piece of him had felt that Batman could not be beaten. He had watched Batman face aliens from outer space and gods from another world. Knowing that Batman was well and truly gone felt...impossible.

He slowly trudges home, his vision blurs as he slowly makes it home on autopilot. He enters his apartment, not even taking his wet clothes or shoes off. Marinette hears him walk in, “Welcome home Jay, I made boeuf bourguignon.” Jason doesn’t even notice her, and in that moment she knew something wasn’t quite right. Normally Jason would joke about how it was a miracle nothing was burning, it could happen, given how clumsy Marinette was.  He slowly drags his feet to the living room and slumps on the sofa, his head in his hands. Marinette peeks her head around the corner, looking visibly concerned.  

Marinette slowly walked to the sofa and sat next to Jason, putting a hand on his thigh. “Jay?” she quietly asked.

Jason’s voice begins to crack “He’s gone, I can’t believe it, he's really gone.” He lifts his head up to look Marinette dead in the eye, “Mari, Bruce is gone.”

Marinette gasps, she had heard the news report but she didn’t think it was true.  She had assumed it was the start of an elaborate ruse, but the look in Jason’s eyes told her otherwise.  Marinette knew Jason and Bruce’s relationship was complicated, but he was visibly hurt and shocked by the news.  Jason wanted a lot of things, he never really wanted Bruce to die, not like this anyway. If that were the case he would have gone through with his plan of blowing up the Batmobile, all those years ago.  Marinette reached up to gently wipe a tear from his face, he held her hand close to his face before she could pull it away.  It was the first of many that would be shed at that moment.

For so many years, before and after he died, Jason wanted Bruce to understand him.  He seemed like a pointy-eared brick wall at times, he never thought there would come a day when it would fall.  Batman had almost seemed untouchable, even when Bane broke his back, he came back stronger than any of them.  Marinette gave a startled little squeak as he pulled her close to him, before wrapping her arms around him. He pulled away slightly but her face was still very close to his, he ran his thumb along her cheek as she leaned into his touch.  He savoured the warm softness beneath his fingertips.  His teary eyes looked into hers for a moment, before he leaned in close to kiss her.  At that moment, he needed to feel the warmth that radiated off of her.  He needed to hold her close to him, he needed to know that she was really there, and not just a cruel fleeting dream.  

Marinette was surprised, in the years that she had known him this wasn't a side of Jason that she had seen before.  There was a feeling of desperation in that kiss, one that only Marinette was privy to.  Whenever Jason kissed her in the past, sometimes it was passion, sometimes with a gentle softness, and other times because he took a certain delight in making her blush.  This time there was passion, but almost never with the desperation and anguish he felt at that very moment.  By contrast, Marinette was a lot more trusting, more forgiving, more optimistic.  It was something that Jason didn’t take lightly, especially considering the person he was by comparison.  With the Kwamis' help, she had seen him through his bouts of pit madness.  Nevertheless, when the kiss broke, she was breathless for a moment, but she didn't pull away.   She rested her forehead against his, brushing aside the occasional tear from his eyes.

For the rest of the night Jason continued to hold Marinette close to him, his chest heaved with sobs every so often. Even with his complicated relationship with Bruce, he was still the one who adopted, taught and cared for this street urchin of Gotham. As the two held each other, Jason’s phone began to ring, displaying Nightwing’s blue bird symbol on screen. Jason took out the phone and looked to see who was calling. He stared at the screen, unsure how to talk to Dick after the loss of Bruce. He looks back to Marinette, ”answer it” she told him with a gentle smile, he needs to be with his family now.

Jason took a deep breath and answered “Hello?”

He could hear Dick’s voice, unusually hoarse on the other end “Hey Little Wing, you saw the message didn’t you?”

Jason solemnly responded “Yeah. I got his message.”

“We need you Jason, just as Bruce said, Gotham needs its guardians. We’re all here at the Belfry. Babs, Tim, Steph, even Duke and Cass. Are you with us?” asked Dick.

Jason looks back to Marinette, who then nodded to him with a smile and mouthed “Go.”

He turns back to the phone, “I’ll be there in an hour, Ladybug can handle things here”.

As he ends the call and stands up from the sofa, Marinette puts a hand to his chest and lifts a finger, signaling to wait just a moment before running to the bedroom. She returns with two wrapped presents, “They were meant for your birthday next month, but...I think you need it now more than ever.”

She places the two boxes next to Jason, and asks him to open them up. Jason picks up the first box, slowly unwrapping to reveal new body armour. His eyes widen, he runs a hand across the large red bat symbol on its chest.

“Mr. Fox and I worked on this for you, he may be an excellent inventor but he lacks a tailor’s touch.” she explained. Taking out a cue card from the gift box, Marinette clears her throat and begins reading from it. “The tri-weave bodysuit consists of an outer and inner layer made from a titanium-dipped tri-weave fiber mesh.”  Marinette tried to read the words with some confidence, despite the fact that English was her second language. She wasn’t even sure if English speakers understood what these words meant. “Sandwiched in between is the MR-fluid based liquid armor system. The proprietary WayneTech Smart MR-fluid hardens in response to impacts, specifically designed to provide superior shock absorption.” As she read the cue card, Marinette thought working these materials into the design was challenging enough, never mind having to list out what they were for.  Still, not everyone had her magical super suit, so she never really thought about how a normal human would have to shield themselves.  Judging by the smile growing on Jason’s face, clearly she was reading some things right. “The liquid body armor layer is also more flexible than the ceramic or fiber-based armour, allowing for greater maneuverability.”  Marinette took a breath and gently placed the cue card back into the box, “I hope you understood those words, because I didn’t” she joked, and for the first time since he’d come home she saw Jason smile. “I also modelled it after your favourite hoodie for maximum comfort.” Saying the last two with emphasis as if it was the most important thing when it came to armour.

Jason chuckles, “This is perfect Pixie, thank you.” As he stands up to give her a hug, she stops him and gestures to the other gift. As he opens the second box he sees within a new Red Hood helmet. “Same materials as your suit. Light, breathable and comfortable.”

Jason picks up the new helmet and begins inspecting it from all angles. He is curious about the black embellishments around the vision slits of the helmet. “Hey Pixie, what's with the dark eye rings?” he asks, turning his head to face her.

She gives him a wink “Red Hood with a pinch of Ladybug.”

Jason places the helmet down and goes to the bedroom to change into his new armour.  Tikki zooms over and both of them give each other a firm nod. If Jason was putting his trust in Marinette to hold the fort here, there was no way she was going to let him down.

[joshjacksons]

Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn’t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”